K9 
BH 


H 


UBRAR'V 


THE   SELECT  NOVELS 

OF 

MARION    HARLAND 


1.— ALONE. 
2.— HIDDEN  PATH, 
i     3.— MOSS  SIDE. 
4.— NEMESIS. 
5.— MIRIAM. 
6.—SUNNYBANK. 
7.— RUBY'S  HUSBAND. 
8.— AT  LAST. 
9.— MY  LITTLE  LOVE. 
10.— TRUE  AS  STEEL.  (New.) 

"The  Novels  of  Marion  Harland  are  of  surpassing  ex- 
cellence.   J>y  Intrinsic  power  of  character-draw- 
ing and  descriptive    facility,   they    hold 
the  reader's  attention   with  the 
most      intcn.-'i      i  merest 
and     fascination." 

A'l    puliiishi-d  uniform    with  tlii*   volume.     Price    $1.50 
each,  and  sent /r«<2  by  mail,  on  receipt  of  price. 

BY 

tt.    TV.    CAKLETON    &    CO.,     PuMishnj-s, 
New  York. 


NEMESIS. 


BT 

MARION  HARLAND, 


AUTUOB    OF 


"ninHKN    PATH/'    "MOSS  SIDE,"    "MIRIAM,"    "EMPTY  HEART,"   UHBJ 
OAIUJNEK,"     "  HUSBANDS    AND    HOMES,1'    "  HUBY'S    HUSBAND." 

"PHEMIE'!>  T1CM1TATION,"  ETC. 
\ 


MH.1S  CV  THE  GODS  GIUNI)    'LOWL1-* 


NEW  YORK: 
Carleton,  Publisher,  Madison  Square. 

LONDON  :  S.  LOW.  SON  &  CO. 
MDCCCLXXXIV. 


Bntered  according  to  Act  cf  Congress,  in  the  year  1870   by 

M.  VIRGINIA  TEKIIUNE. 

the  Clerk'e  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  th«  9ootheet 
District  of  New  York. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  household  critic,  to  whom  the  following  story  wai 
8n  omitted  in  its  chrysalis  state — i.  e.  in  manuscript — has  left 
here  and  there  in  the  margin  bold  pencillings  to  the  effect  that 
BUv.h  and  such  passages  are  "  Improbable."  Now  it  strikes 
me  as  a  singular  circumstance  that  this  objection  is  brought 
on1/  against  those  scenes,  incidents  and  characters,  in  which  I 
have  copied  with  most  fidelity  events  and  persons  in  real 
tile.  And  I  aver,  furthermore,  that  in  most  of  these  cases, 
had  I  dared  to  set  down  the  exact  truth,  the  verdict  rendered 
wo?'d  have  been  "Impossible,"  instead  of  the  milder  form 
of  doubt  given  above. 

Many  years  since,  the  germ  of  this  narrative  was  com- 
au'tted  to  my  keeping  by  a  dear  friend,  who  has  since  gone 
to  the  far,  changeless  Land.  Much  that  I  have  written  I 
have  gathered  from  MSS. — family  papers,  yellow  with  time  ; 
for  several  items  of  information,  I  am  indebted  to  persona 
gtill  living,  whose  memories  age  has  not  clouded.  I  do  not 
pretend  to  say  that  my  talejs  a  literal  transcript  of  the  livea 
if  the  various  personages  introduced,  or  that  I  have  not 
yterpolated  characters  and  events — taken  an  author's  liberty 

w 


n  NEMESIS.- 

r 

with  dates  and  denouements  ;  but  that  I  had  a  broad  basis 
of  fact  for  the  foundation,  and  in  my  superstructure,  havo 
drawn  less  upon  the  imagination  than  is  the  fashion  of  some 
so-called  biographers,  in  their  veracious  memoirs  of  modern 
celetrities,  I  may,  with  truth,  affirm.  In  some  scenes,  the 
very  words  of  the  original  actors  have  been  employed,  and 
even  in  the  minute  details  of  dress,  equipage,  etc.,  I  have 
taken  great  pains  and  pleasure  in  portraying  things  precisely 
as  they  were  in  the  places  and  times  described  hi  my  book. 


MARION 


39V.4CS,  J«*     Ittttl 


NEMESIS. 


CHAPTER    3 . 

THE  fogs  of  a  November  afternoon  were  thickening  with  tha 
chill  of  approaching  evening.  There  were  ominous  murmurs 
among  the  pines,  and  the  almost  naked  boughs  of  the,  oak  and 
hickory  shivered  and  sighed,  as  they  let  down,  now  and  then,  a 
stray  leaf,  to  decay  peacefully  with  the  companions  of  its  summer 
revels,  or  be  trampled  into  the  deep  mire  of  the  public  road, 
which  formed  scarcely  a  break  in  the  forest.  The  wheel-ruts  had 
cut  into  the,  roots,  and  vehicles  had  grazed  the  trunks  of  the 
giant  trees  that  locked  arms  across  the  highway.  Yet  it  was  no 
newly-opened  track.  The  upper  stratum  of  earth,  black  with 
richness  from  the  deposits  of  a  thousand  autumns,  was  worn  down 
to  a  more  durable  bed  of  stiff  red, clay,  of  a  granite-like  smooth- 
ness and  polish  in  dry  weather — now,  tenacious  as  wax  t« 
wheel  and  hoof. 

A  shallow  creek,  widening  into  a  pond  where  it  crossed  the 
road,  was  cloaked  by  underbrush  up  to  either  edge  of  the  woods. 
A  flock  of  wild  turkeys,  headed  by  a  portly  gobbler,  bearded  like 
a  despotic  Turk,  as  he  was,  picked  their  dainty  way  through  the 
stream — each  pausing  to  wet  his  bill.  Then,  the  bushes  partH 


8  NEMESIS. 

to  afford  egress  to  a  deer — a  full-grown,  antlered  buck,  who  alsc 
stooped  to  slake  his  thirst.  His  lip  had  barely  touched  the 
water,  when  the  graceful  head  was  suddenly  raised  again.  For 
an  instant,  he  listened,  his  dark  eye  bright,  and  his  limbs  quiver- 
ing with  excitement — and  a  bound  carried  him  out  of  sight  and 
danger.  Now,  the  so,und  that  had  put.  him  to  flight  became 
audible  to  duller  hearing.  It  was  the"  measured  tinkle  of  bells, 
wondrously  musical  in  this  lonely  spot.  Nearer  and  nearer  it 
came  ;  drowning  the  sullen  gurgle  of  the  creek  and  the  hoarse 
whispers  in  the  tree-tops,  until,  on  the  rising  ground,  beyond  the 
pond,  appeared  a  wagon,  long  of  body  and  heavy-wheeled  ;  cov- 
ered with  an  arched  awning  of  white  cloth,  and  drawn  by  six 
horses,  §trong  and  trained  to  labor  as  these  evidently  were,  it 
was  no  easy  task  to  drag  along  the  ponderous  vehicle.  The 
broad  breasts  of  the  leaders  were  flecked  with  foam,  and  their 
legs  stained  above  the  kneea  with  the  red  mud.  At  the  pool, 
they  checked  their  steady  tramp,  from  instinct  or  habit.  There 
was  one  prolonged  thrilling  peal  from  the  bells  attached  to  their 
collars,  and  they  awaited  patiently  their  master's  pleasure.  It 
seldom  pleased  him  to  move  rapidly,  if  _pne  might  judge  from  the 
very  deliberate  style  in  which  the  rotund  figure  swung  itself  into 
the  road  from  the  sheepskin,  strapped  upon  one  of  the  wheel- 
horses,  and  the  length  of  time  that  was  consumed  in  stretching 
and  rubbing  the  dumpy  legs. 

"  Can  I  help  you,  Mr.  Paxton  ?"  inquired  a  cheerful  voice 
from  the  interior  of  the  wagon. 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply  to  his  question,  a  young  man 
vaulted  over  the  saddle  just  vacated,  and  stood  at  the  side  of  the 
fat  teamster.  He  was  an  athletic,  well-proportioned  youth,  of 
perhaps  five-and-twenty,  with  a  ruddy  cheek,  and  a  frank,  intelli 
gent  countenance.  His  accent  at  once  betrayed  his  New  Eng- 
land nativity,  as  did  that  of  the  wagoner  the  proviixciaj 
Virginian 


N  K  M  K  8  I  8  .  9 

"  I'm  obleeged  to  you;  Mr.  Hale.  If  you'll  be  so  g>K>d  as  to 
unhitch  that  bucket" — pointing  to  a  bespattered  pail  swing- 
ing between  the  hinder  wheels — "  while  I  take  this  'ere  one,  why, 
we'll  git  through  in  half  the  tune.  '  Mauy  hands  make  light 
work,'  as  I've  heered  my  ole  woman  say.  You  have  got  no 
objection  to  hurryin'  on  things  a  little,  I  reckon  ?" 

"  Xone,  I  assure  you  t  I  am  beginning  to  fear  that  night 
will  overtake  us  before  we  get  to  our  journey's  end  ;  the  roads 
are  so  heavy." 

"  Don't  skeer  yourself  about  that !  But  ain't  I  stiff  in  the 
jints  !"  groaned  the  teamster,  lifting  his  bucket  to  the  leader's 
mouth.  "  I  camp  to-night  better'n  a  mile  t'other  side  of  your 
house,  and  I'm  bound  to  be  thar  by  dark.  We  ain't  more'n  two 
miles  from  Mr.  Argyle's,  now."  ' 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  Bessy  ?"  said  the  young  man,  nearing  the 
front  of  the  wagon. 

A  face  appeared  in  the  semi-circular  gap  of  the  canvas  cover. 
It  was  a  female  head — girlish  and  pretty. 

"  Did  you  call  me,  Mark  ?" 

"Yes.  We  have  not  quite  two  miles  further  to  go,  little 
woman .  That  is  good  news,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  is  !"  she  responded,  joyfully.  "  It  is  getting  chilly, 
and  1  am  uneasy  lest  Kitty  should  catch  cold."  She  bent 
anxiously  over  a  bundle  wrapped  in  a  shawl,  that  lay  across  her 
lap.  "  I  hope  she  will  sleep  soundly  the  rest  of  the  way." 

"  She'll  be  mighty  apt  to.  The  bells  are  as  good  as  hop-tea 
for  puttiu'  the  children  to  sleep,  my  ole  woman  says,"  remarked 
the  driver,  climbing  back  to  his  place.  "  Many's  the  trip  to 
town  and  back  she's  been  with  me,  with  a  young  one  on  her 
knees,  and  two  or  three  more,  bigger  ones,  tumblin'  about  over 
the  boxes  and  barrel?,  in  back  thar — and  she  never  lost  a  day's 
work.  It  was  sewin',  or  knittiri',  or  cardin'  wool,  or  somethiu1 
»f  the  sort,  all  the  time.  I  tell  her,  she'll  take  her  loom  along 

1* 


10  NEMESIS. 

Borne  day.  A  powerful  worker,  she  is — if  1  §ay  it,  as  shouldn't 
aay  it.  Ain't  you  goin'  to  get  in  sir  ?" 

"  I  believe  not.  I  will  walk  on  a  little  way.  My  legs  aw 
cramped  with  sitting  so  long." 

The  bells  jingled  ;  the  massive  wheels  creaked,  and  the  weary, 
patient  annuals,  with  bent  heads  and  strained  sinews,  began  the 
ascent  of  another  hill. 

Mark  Hale  sprung  nimbly  past  them  ;  reached  the  summit 
and  ran  down  the  further  and  steeper  side,  to  find  still  another 
and  a  more  formidable  eminence  before  him.  Upon  the  top  of 
this  he  stopped,  to  watch  for  the  reappearance  of  the,  to  him, 
richly-laden  vehicle,  for  it  contained  his  earthly  all.  A  summary 
review  of  the  circumstances  which  had  brought  him  thus  far  from 
the  home  of  his  forefathers,  will  be  all  we '  need  relate  of  nis 
previous  history.  He  was  the  son  of  a  revolutionary  soldier, 
who,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  had  returned  to  his  native  village 
and  former  trade — that  of  a  shoemaker.  In  this  humble  calling 
he  had  labored  until  his  death,  leaving  to  his  son  very  little  beside 
an  unsullied  name  ;  a  plain  English  education,  which  the  boy's 
inherent  love  of  study  had  made  unusually  thorough  for  one  in 
his  station,  and  an  experimental  knowledge  of  his  father's  handi- 
craft. Nothing  daunted  at  his  unflattering  worldly  prospects, 
Mark  married,  before  he  was  twenty-one,  a  girl  as  poor  as  him- 
self, to  whom  he  had  been  attached  from  childhood.  Bessy 
Bryan  brought  to  his  cottage  a  loving  heart,  a  pair  of  willing  and 
skillful  hands,  and  a  blind  mother,  for  whom  the  young  couple 
wired  tenderly  during  the  three  years  that  remained  to  her  upon 
tartli  after  her  removal  to  their  home.  Besides  Bessy,  she  had 
one  other  child,  a  sou,  considerably  older  than  the  faithful  daugh- 
ter. But  "  poor  Jacob  Bryan,"  as  his  best  friends  called  him, 
was  an  easy,  good-natured  fellow  -f  energetic  without  judgment, 
active  without  acuteness — just  the  man  to  work  himself  into 
difficulties,  and  trust  to  luck  to  help  him  out  of  them.  By  choice 


S  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  11 


be  became  a  peddler  and  in  this  capacity  travelled  through 
of  the  southern  States.  On  his  first  trip  home,  after  his  ro 
decease,  he  found  his  brother  in-law  feebly  convalescent  from  a 
spell  of  rheumatic  fever,  and  persuaded  him  to  accompany  him 
on  a  tour  through  a  more  genial  clime 

Mark  came  back  to  his  native  place,  well  and  strong,  and  fired 
by  ambitious  visions  of  che  advantages  to  be  gained  by  emigra- 
tion. Without.  a  complaint,  and,  so  far  as  her  husband  saw, 
without  a  tear,  Bessy  packed  up  the  limited  number  of  movables 
she  could  take  such  a  distance,  and  bidding  farewell  to  the  friends 
of  her  childhood  and  to  her  parents'  graves,  said  in  spirit,  if  not 
hi  words,  to  him  who  was  now  her  only  stay  in  life,  "  Whither 
thou  goest,  I  will  go."  Her  husband's  observation  and  inquiries 
during  his  former  journey  enabled  him  to  fix  without  delay  upon 
a  location.  When  his  plans  of  removal  were  definitively  made, 
he  wrote  to  a  fellow-northerner,  a  resident  now  of  the  neighbor- 
hood he  had  chosen  as  the  Canaan  of  his  exodus,  whose  acquaint- 
ance he  had  made  while  at  the  South,  and  requested  him  to  prc- 
-cure  a  house  for  him.  As  good  fortune  ordered,  this  person  had 
on  hand  a  "  commodious  cottage  "  to  rent  out,  he  acting  as  agent 
for  its  owner,  a  gentleman  now  travelling  abroad.  A  bargain 
was  concluded  by  letter,  and  this  spot  our  young  couple  were 
approaching  on  this  murky  afternoon. 

Mark's  adventurous  and  sanguine  spirit  did  not  flag  under  the 
discouraging  aspect  of  the  weather  and  the  change  in  the  country 
he  remembered  as  so  beautiful  in  the  flush  and  glory  of  the 
gpring-tirn?  He  acknowledged  indeed,  to  himself,  that  he  would 
not  have  been  so  easily  fascinated  by  the  situation  he  had  selected, 
had  he  beheld  it  first  in  circumstances  similar  to  the  present;  but 
smice  the  irrevocable  step  was  taken,  his  choice  made  with  a  full 
conviction  that  he  was  acting  wisely,  hi  reference  to  his  owu 
future,  and  that  of  those  dearest  to  him,  he  gallantly  resolved  to 
abide  by  it,  chtcrf'-lly.  There  was  but  cue  shade  of  solicitude 


12  NEMESIS. 

upon  his  heart,  and  this,  although  banished  fr:m  his  face,  as  th< 
lumbering  wagon  rocked  and  groaned  up  the  hill,  lent  a  softer 
tenderness  to  his  voice,  as  he  addressed  his  wife  : 

"  This  is  not  just  the  country  you  expected  to  see,  from  my 
description — is  it,  Bessy  ?" 

The  troubled  look  hi  her  eyea  accorded  illy  with  the  smile  she 
forced  to  her  lips. 

"  It  will  look  better  in  the  spring  and  summer,  I  dare  say 
But,  Mark,  dear,  where  do  the  people  live  ?  I  have  seen  but  one 
house  in  the  last  ten  miles." 

"  They  dovSt  live  near  the  main  road,"  said  the  driver  ;  "  it's 
too  public.  We  all  down  South  belongs  to  the  modest  sort." 

A  laughing  gleam  from  Mark's  eye  brought  a  real  smile  to  hia 
wife's  countenance.  He  knew  that  she  was  thinking  with  him, 
that  they  had  met  but  two  teams  and  three  foot-passengers, 
during  six  hours'  travel  upon  the  route,  objected  to  as  "  too 
public." 

"  There  are  by-roads  leading  to  the  plantations,  crossing  this 
in  all  directions,  you  see,  Bessy.  We  shall  be  at  no  loss  for 
neighbors,  even  if  they  are  a  little  further  off  than  those  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  at  our  old  home.  Very  kind  people  you  will 
find  them  to  be,  too,"  he  added. 

Bessy  bowed  her  head  at  the  mention  of  their  old  neighborhood. 
She  seemed  intent  upon  drawing  the  wrappings  about  Kitty's 
curly  head  ;  but  his  own  memory  was  too  truthful  for  him  to 
doubt  the  cause  of  the  dimness,  he  was  sure  was  over  her  eyes. 
Resuming  his  seat  beside  her,  he  put  his  arm  around  her  waist, 
and  both  were  quiet  and  thoughtful  for  a  while. 

And  for  that  while,  neither  beheld  the  unfamiliar  and  actual 
ecene  in  their  sight.  They  gazed  fondly  instead,  upon  a  little 
white  cottage,  a  story  and  a  half  in  front,  sloping  down  in  the 
rear  until  a  tall  man  could  hardly  stand  beneath  the  eaves  ;  and 
the  great  apple-tree  shading  the  kitchen  window  ;  upon  thf 


NEMESIS.  13 

broad  door-step,  where  they  had  played  at  housketping  when 
children,  themselves  ;  where  the  bride  had  sat  in  the  summer 
twilight  to  watch  for  her  husband's  coming  ;  where  the  youthful 
mother  had  dandled  her  babe,  and  the  yoarig  father  sustained  it* 
tottering  trial-steps.  There,  on  pleasant  days,  was  set  the  grand 
mother's  arm-chair,  and" the  sunshine  fell  warmly  through  the  elm 
Doughs  overhead,  a  welcome  bath  to  the  trembh'ng  limbs  and 
form,  although  hex  eyes  could  not  perceive  its  brightness  ;  and 
over  it,  in  a  tearful  silence,  unbroken,  except  by  the  tread  of 
bearers  and  mourners,  neighbors  and  friends — synonyms  among 
that  simple  people — bore  to  her  final  rest  the  mortal  remains  of 
the  aged  pilgrim — thank  Heaven,  sightless  no  longer !  The  light 
of  love,  the  baptism  of  tears  had  made  that  worn,  grey  stone  a 
sacred  spot  to  the  wanderers.  In  the  yard,  they  never  dreamed 
was  not  "  modest,"  because  it  lay  along  the  village  street,  were 
flowers  and  trees  of  their  own  planting.  Henceforth  straugera 
were  to  enjoy  their  fragrance  and  shade.  The  bees  tenanting  the 
row  of  hives,  in  the  possession  of  which  Bessy  had  esteemed  her- 
Belf  passing  rich,  would  hum  and  store  honey  just  as  busily,  now 
that  she  would  not  profit  by  their  hordes. 

The  church  green  was  a  convenient  and  inviting  picture  to  one 
seated  in  the  cottage  door  ;  with  the  weeping  elms  trailing  over 
the  roof  and  latticing  the  windows  of  the  ancient  building,  whose 
heavy  frame  and  brown  oaken  pews  had  been  brought  from  Eng- 
land— the  villagers  were  fond  of  relating.  On  either  side,  and 
behind  it,  lay  its  founders  and  the  majority  of  the  congregations 
that  had  gathered  within  it  prior  to  the  present  generation;  the 
memory  of  their  names  and  worthy  deeds  kept  alive,  less  by  the 
quaint  stones  that  marked  their  pillows,  than  through  the  tra- 
iitions  treasured  and  told  with  love  and  pride,  by  their  descend- 
in  Is. 

It  was  a  dangerous  indulgence  of  fancy  on  Mark's  part,  and  h« 
felt  the  ill  effects 'of  his  indiscretion  in  the  dreariness  that  ftV* 


14  N  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

opon  him,  like  the  November  fog,  and  the  struggle  it  cost  him  tc 
maintain  a  show  of  composure,  much  less  of  gaiety,  when  the 
teamster,  pointing  with  his  long  whip,  remarked,  "  Yonder'* 
your  house,  Mrs.  Hale  1" 

Bessy  leaned  forward  eagerly,  as  did  Mark. 

"  Where  ?"  asked  both. 

"  Just  'cross  that  field,  in  that  clump  of  trees." 

"  That  !"  said  Bessy,  incredulous.     "  Mark.!  can  it  be  ?" 

"  It  must  be,  dear.  Mr.  Paxton  told  me  that  he  knew  the 
place,  and  had  heard  through  Mr.  Sancroft,  that  we  had  rented  it." 

"  It  ain't  so  sniptious  as  you  expected,  I  reckon,"  said  the 
wagoner.  "  It's  pretty  'nough  situation,  but  it  may  be,  you'll 
find  the  house  sort  o'  out  of  order.  Mr.  Argyle,  he  built  it  for 
his  overseer,  and  the  man  lived  in  it  six  months,  or  so.  Then  Mr. 
Argyle  took  it  into  his  head  that  it  was  too  far  off  from  his  place, 
and  Mr.  Frisbie's  old  mother,  who  kept  house  for  him  died,  so  he'd 
no  reason  to  stay  there  any  longer,  and  was-willin'  to  do  what 
his  employer  wanted,  which  was,  to  have  everything  under  his 
own  eye.  Let  him  alone  for  '  making  every  edge  cut,'  as  my  ole 
woman  says.  And  Mr.  Sancroft — his  agent — he's  just  as  sharp 
and  close.  Maybe,  as  you  are  a  Yankee,  he'll  favor  you.  He 
came  from  Connecticut — where  they  make  clocks,  you  know." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  need  no  favoring  at  -his  hands  1"  returned 
Mark,  with  some  stiffness.  Then  ashamed  of  his  boastful  pride, 
he  continued,  pleasantly,  "  I  guess  we  shall  not  quarrel,  if  I  pay 
my  rent,  and  don't  worry  him  for  too  many  repairs." 

"  Oh  !  you'll  get  on  !"  But  the  honest  face  "  reckoned"  there 
might  be  other  causes  of  dissatisfaction. 

"  The  old  gentleman — Mr.  Argyle  is  mighty  well  off,"  he  said, 
sheering  away  from  the  agent.  "  He  owns  nigh  upon  two  thou- 
land  acres  of  land,  and  niggers  more'n  enough  to  work  it,  and  has 
money  a  plenty  besides,  they  say.  But  for  all  that,  a  shillin' 
piece  looks  as  big  to  him  as  r1.  does  to  you  or  me.  His  wife  was 


N  K  M   K  8  I  8  .  15 


I  different  kind — free-handed  as  he'd  let  her  be  ;  good  to  poot 
folks,  and  one  of  the  religiousest  ladies  you  ever  seen.  Hei 
darters  don't  take  after  her,  I've  heered  tell.  Master  Malcolm — 
he  looks  like  her,  and  behaves  like  her,  too — much  as  a  wild  boy 
can  like  a  perfect  lady,  as  she  was.  But  deary  me  !  as  my  ole 
woman  says,  '  It  takes  many  sorts  of  people  to  make  a  world,1 
and  '  boys  will  be  b< 

"  I  thought  the  family  were  not  at  home,"  said  Mark,  more  to 
cover  Bessy's  silence,  and  to  prevent  any  attempts  at  consolation 
from  Mr.  Paxtou,  should  he  notice  her,  than  from  interest  hi  his 
landlord's  domestic  affairs. 

"  So  they  aiiit  I  The  old  gentleman,  he's  in  Scotland,  whar 
his  father  came  from,  and  he,  too,  for  that  matter,  when  he  was  a 
child.  The  two  darters,  they're  at  the  North,  somewhar,  at 
school.  Thar  warnt  nft  schools  in  Yirginny  fine  enough  for  them. 
They're  highflyers,  I  tell  you  !  Master  Malcolm's  at  college  in 
Williainsburg." 

"  The  house  is  shut  up,  then  ?" 

"  All  but  the  housekeeper's  rooms.  Whoa!  gee!  what  are  you 
about  thar  ?  You  see  " — to  Mark — "  they  aint  used  to  goin'  hi 
here." 

The  elephantine  wagon  slowly  and  painfully,  as  it  were,  turned 
into  a  side  road,  better  than  that  which  they  had  heretofore  tra- 
velled, inasmuch  as  it  was  a  gravelly  soil,  and  its  ruts  were  less 
deep.  A  few  hundred  yards  brought  them  to  the  house  they  had 
seen  across  the  field.  It  was  built  of  hewn  logs  ;  one  story  in 
height,  with  a  door  and  a  window  in  front.  There  was  no  inclosed 
yard  or  garden,  and  the  half  dozen  fine  oaks  that  embowered  it  in 
lummer,  were  now  no  improvement  to  its  desolate  appearance. 

"  Here  we  are,  Bessy,  dear  !" 

Mark  held  up  his  strong  arms  with  a  look  that  was  pitying  La 
its  affection,  when  he  meant  it  should  be  joyous.  "  Welcome  t« 
our  hut  in  the  baekwo  d<  !''  as  he  lifted  her  to  the  ground. 


10  N  K  M  E  8  I  8  . 

Bessy  had  alighted  ankle-deep  in  the  dead  leaves,  and  for  a 
moment,  their  rustle  was  his  only  reply.  Then,  she  took  her  child 
from  the  wagoner's  arms,  and  presented  it  for  its  father's  kiss. 

"  Mamma  and  Kitty  are  very  glad  to  get  home  at  last  1"  sh« 
said,  smiling  bravely. 

Dead  leaves  everywhere  !  but  in  the  corners  of  the  zigzag  fence 
that  bounded  the  road  on  one  side,  and  against  the  walls  of  the 
house,  they  were  heaped  highest,  while,  in  the  road  itself,  there 
whirled  along,  ever  and  anon,  a  twittering  shower  of  them,  before 
the  wind,  like  a'  flock  of  frightened  birds. 

"  The  door  is  open,  I  see,"  said  Mark,  pushing  it  wider. 

"  Never  had  no  lock  on  it,  I  reckon  !"  was  the  reply  of  the 
wagoner.  "  If  you're  ready,  we'll  tumble  out  your  things.  I 
wish  I  could  stay  and  help  you  get  to  rights,  but  I  must  be 
travelling." 

Bessy  bestowed  a  glance  upon  the  dismal  interior  of  the  dwell- 
ing ;  then  turned  away,  and  gathering  a  pile  of  the  dry  leaves  at 
the  leeward  end  of  the  house,  she  deposited  her  child  upon  the 
Boft  cushion,  tucked  a  blanket  snugly  about  her,  tied  her  hood 
more  tightly  under  the  little  chin,  and  gave  her  aid  in  remov- 
ing the  lighter  articles  of  their  luggage.  There  were  not 
many  parcels,  and  the  work  was  soon  done. 

After  infinite  trouble,  whoa-ing  and  gee-ing,  and  backing  in 
the  clearing  arouiid  the  cabin,  the  horses,  and  the  moving  moun- 
tain attached  to  them,  faced  the  main  road  once  more. 

"  I  wish  you  luck  1"  said  the  driver,  heartily,  when  he  had 
received  his  fare,  and  the  thanks  of  his  late  passengers. 

Even  his  dull  imagination  recognized  the  forlorn  expression  of 
the  picture  before  him  ;  the  heap  of  household  goods  that  could 
furnish  but  scantily  the  rude  hut  that  made  the  background  ;  the 
group  standing  among  the  withered  leaves  j  the  child,  blue  with 
cold,  and  terrified  by  the  strangeness  of  its  surroundings,  clinging 
to  its  mother's  neck  ;  the  wife,  pale  and  wistful,  her  lips  dosed 


NEMKSIg.  17 

hnnly,  to  repress  the  emotion  that  might  seem  to  reproach  hire 
who  had  brought  her  hither  ;  the  sturdy  husband,  perplexed  and 
serious,  under  the  weight  of  the  responsibility  he  had  assumed, 
but  never  before  felt  so  heavily  as  at  this  moment ;  and  over  all, 
the  darkening  grey  of  the  low  clouds. 

"  I'll  call  in  when  I  pass  this  way  agen,"  adventured  the  team- 
ster, by  way  of  alleviation  to  their  discomfort.  "  Don't  get 
homesick — no  more'n  you  can  help,  I  mean,  of  course.  '  Put  the 
best  foot  foremost,'  as  my  ole  woman  says.  '  What's  done  can't 
be  helped  !'  as  I've  heered  her  say  a  hundred  times,  I  reckon. 
Wish  she  was  here  !  She'd  tell  you  just  what  to  do — get  you  all 
straight  in  less  than  no  time." 

That  night,  as  he  slept  hi  his  four-wheeled  tent,  his  horses 
tethered  about  it,  and  his  bull-dog  at  his  feet,  doing  double  duty 
as  guard  and  foot-stove,  he  was  awakened  by  the  roar  of  the  rain 
on  the  canvas  cover. 

"  I'm  afeered  they're  having  a  hard  time  of  it  I"  he  muttered, 
rolling  his  huge  body  over  for  another  nap.  "  Better  have  stayed 
*rhere  they  come  from,  if  'twas  Yankee-land  !" 


18  BEMEBII. 


CHAPTER  II. 

14  Now,  then,  Bessy,  for  work  1" 

Mark  ended  the  mournful  pause,  during  which  both  had 
listened  fo  the  last  dying  tinkle  of  the  distant  bell  that  sounded 
like  a  farewell  message  from  the  civilized  world.  'With  a  deep 
inspiration,  he  cast  off  despondency  and  homesickness. 

"  We  will  not  be  down-hearted,  dear,  while  we  are  left  to  one 
another,  and  Kitty  is  spared  to  comfort  us  both.  Suppose  we 
examine  the  inside  of  what,  forlorn  as  it  looks,  we  will  make  a 
home  of  by  and  by." 

It  was  a  heavy  draught  upon  Bessy's  loving  faith  in  her  hus- 
band's word  to  credit  the  possibility  of  this  latter  clause,  as  she 
stood  in  the  centre  of  the  principal  room,  and  gazed  around  her. 
The  walls  were  tolerably  sound — that  is,  there  were  not  many 
fissures  that  admitted  the  outer  air  and  light,  but  the  inner  plas- 
tering had  crumbled  and  fallen  in  a  number  of  places,  displaying 
the  shingles  and  sticks  with  which  the  edifice  was  "  chinked." 
The  bc^re  beams,  black  with  dirt  and  smoke,  as  was  also  the  floor, 
were  overlaid  by  loose  planks,  forming  a  loft,  gained  from  below, 
by  a  rough  ladder  from  which  half  the  rounds  were  missing.  The 
fire-place  nearly  filled  up  one  end  of  the  apartment,  and  the  day- 
light  glimmered  down  its  capacious  mouth  upon  ashes  and  charred 
pieces  of  firewood,  extinct  months  before.  A  row  of  shelves,  to 
the'left  of  the  chimney,  constituted  all  the  furniture  and  culinary 
conveniences  of  the  establishment,  and  these  w-fe  only  undressed 
planks,  supported  by  pegs  driven  into  the  logs 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  If 

"  This  is  the  kitchen,  I  guess,"  said  Bessy,  opening  a  doo/ 
ieading  to  a  back  room. 

But  it  had  neither  fireplace  nor  stove.  A  small,  unglazed 
window  allowed  unobstructed  passage  to  the  wind,  and  the 
gaping  cracks  above,  below,  and  at  the  sides  of  another  door, 
completed  the  process  of  ventilation.  This,  too,  Bessy  unclosed, 
and  beheld  about  an  acre  of  ground  that  seemed  to  have  known 
tillage  and  inclosure  at  some  remote  date.  Not  far  from  the 
house,  and,  each  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  were  the  remains  of  a  hen- 
coop and  pig-sty. 

"  What  dirty  people  they  must  have  been  1"  said  our  New 
England  girl,  with  a  curl  of  her  pretty  mouth,  "  I  don't  wonder 
that  Mr.  Argyle  wanted  to  have  them  under  his  own  eye  !" 

"  We  will  "Show  them  a  different  style  of  living,"  returned 
Mark.  "  Next  summer,  we  will  have  a  fence  and  a  garden,  and 
chickens,  and  a  pig.  You  have  enbugh  Irish  blood  in  you  tc 
make  the  porker  a  necessary  appendage  to  your  family  ;  but  we 
Leed  not  have  his  sty  directly  under  our  chamber  window. 
Instead  of  that,  we  will  plant  roses  and  morning-glories." 

Bessy  was  passionately  fond  of  flowers,  and  she  looked  brighter 
at  the  mere  imagination. 

Mark  followed  up  his  advantage.  "And  we  have  all  the 
winter  for  getting  things  straight  within-doors.  The  first  step 
is  to  make  a  fire.  There  are  dry  sticks  in  plenty  for  the  kind- 
ling. Fuel  is  not  scarce  hereabouts,  however  pressed  we  may  be 
for  other  comforts." 

The  hearth  was  speedily  cleared,  and  a  fire  crept  brightly 
among  the  crackling  twigs,  then  caught  the  larger  logs  Mark  had 
oicked  up  about  the  premises.  While  her  father  and  mother 
were  bringing  in  then*  boxes  and  bundles,  Miss  Kitty  sat  upon  a 
roll  of  bedding,  laid  against  the  wall,  for  her  accommodation, 
still  muffled  in  the  shawls  that  concealed  her  entirely,  excepting 
a  pair  of  cherry  lips  and  neat  little  nose,  straight  and  sensible, 


£0  NEMESIS. 

and  two  black  eyes,  that  saw  and  wondered  at  everything  , 
especially  were  they  attracted  by  the  merry  leaping  blaze  (thal 
grew  redder  and  stronger  as  the  evening  became  darker.  She 
T?ould  have  liked  to  be  nearer  to  it,  but  "  mamma  "  had  bade  he? 
Bit  still,  and  babies  thought  it  no  hardship  to  obey  their  parent? 
in  those  days  of-  primitive  ignorance,  when  the  hint  that  Solomon 
and  Paul  were  "  old  fogies,"  would  have  been  regarded  as  irrevo 
rently  presumptuous.  - 

Thus,  it  was  not  until  the  last  package  was  brought  in,  and  the 
rickety  door  excluded  some  of  the  unwholesome  dampness,  that 
Kitty  was  promoted  to  "mamma's"  knee,  and  her  wrappings 
removed,  with  a  kiss  and  word  of  praise  to  the  "  best  little  girl  in 
the  country."  If  the  mother  had  added,  "  and  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest," it  must  have  been  a  critical  taste  indeed  that  found  fault 
with  her  partial  judgment.  Short,  sunny-brown  ringlets  covered 
a  head,  formed  with  the  elegance  of  outline  and  proportion  that 
gave  her  mother,  although  but  a  shoemaker's  wife,  the  air  of  aris- 
tocratic breeding.  The  father's  smile  rarely  left  the  black  eyes, 
and  the  fervid  Irish  blood,  of  which  he  had  spoken,  colored  the 
round  cheek.  " 

"  Mamma  1"  said  the  little  three-year-old,  "  where  is  this  ?" 

"  This  is  home,  my  daughter,"  replied  Bessy,  steadily. 

Another  dubious  look  at  floor  and  ceiling,  and  the  confused 
mass  of  articles  that  busied  her  father  ;  and  the  lip  curled  just  as 
the  tidy  housewife's  had  done,  at  the  proximity  of  the  pig-pen  to 
the  back  door. 

"  I  don't  like  it,  mamma  !     'Tisn't  clean  1" 

"  Her  mother  all  over  !  the  particular  little  minx  1"  laughe^, 
Mark. 

Bessy  answered  more  seriously.  "  But  when  it  is  clean,  you 
rill  find  it  a  nice  place,  Kitty.  Mamma  will  fix  a  seat  for  yoo, 
and  give  you  a  piece  of  bread  and  butter.  Then  you  will  sit  still 
and  let  me  help  papa — will  you  not  ?" 


NEMESIS.  1 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  sighed  she,  meekly  ;  and  while  the  w«rk  of 
anpaeking  went  on,  she  remained  quietly  perched  upon  a  chest, 
tnunching  the  hard  biscuit  that  was  to  be  her  supper. 

"  Papa,"  she  said,  at  length,  "  may  I  please  have  a  drink  of 
*-ater  ?" 

"  Certainly,  my  darling." 

"  But  where  is  the  well  ?"  exclaimed  Bessy.  "  I  have  not 
thought  of  it  once  1  How  singular  that  I  should  have  forgot- 
ten it  I" 

"  The  spring  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  behind  the  house," 
answered  Mark.  "  I  will  step  out  and  get  a  pailful  of  water." 

"  I  thought  perhaps  the  overseer's  family  managed  to  live  witn- 
out  it,"  said  Bessy,  mischievously.  "  I  am  sure  the  supply  must 
be  very  small." 

"  I  will  find  enough  for  Kitty,  and  for  our  cup  of  tea,"  replied 
Mark,  lighting  one  of  the  pitchpine  torches,  with  which  he  had 
supplied  himself,  in  conformity  with  a  suggestion  of  his  friend,  the 
wagoner. 

Bessy  stooped  again  over  the  box  of  housekeeping  utensils  and 
crockery.  The  next  thing  that  came  to  hand  was  drawn  forth 
with  the  utmost  care.  Kitty's  eyes  flashed  recognition. 

".Grandmamma's  clock  !"  she  cried.  "  Where  did  it  come 
from  ?  Oh,  mamma,  do  make  it  strike  1" 

As  much  to  gratify  herself  as  her  child,  Bessy  set  it  up  on  one 
of  the  shelves,  and  applied  the  key.  The  works  were  all  in  order. 
The  lively  pendulum  commenced  its  "  tickety-tick  !"  and  as  Mark 
entered,  the  shrill  bell  rang  out  seven  o'clock,  for  Bessy  could  only 
guess  at  the  hour. 

"  That  is  a  welcome  sound  P  was  his  exclamation,  and  for  a 
time  the  three  stood,  looking  at  the  well-remembered  face 
and  listening  to  the  familiar  music,  with  equal  and  childish 
delight . 

"  The  place  ifl  not  half  sc   lonesome  now,  as  it  was  1"  saiic 


£9  NEMK8I8. 

Bessy,  going  back  to  her  work.     "  It  reminds  me  so  a  nch  of  the 
dear  old  kitchen  at  home  1" 

Hands  and  feet  moved  to  the  rapid  beatings  of  the  blithe 
monitor  on  the  shelf,  and  Kitty,  in  default  of  more  interesting 
amusement,  watched  it,  until  her  eyelids  fell  together. 

"  Papa's  blessing  1"  murmured  Mark,  taking  the  yielding  form 
mto  his  arms. 

"  She  has  had  hard  travel  and  hard  fare  to-day.  Loosen  her 
clothes  very  gently,  Bessy  dear.  I  am  glad  that  we  can  make 
her  comfortable  for  the  night." 

This  was  not  an  unfounded  congratulation  ;  although  the  little 
one's  bed  was  made  within  one  of  the  packing-boxes,  instead  of 
the  roomy  crib  of  polished  wood,  which  had  held  her  from  the 
hour  of  her  birth  until  the  day  they  quitted  the  homestead.  It 
cost  Bessy  a  severe  pang  to  part  with  that ;  but  it  was  really  less 
necessary  to  them  than  many  other  portions  of  their  furniture  ; 
and  "  something  must  be  given  up,"  she  reminded  herself  again 
and  again,  when  her  desires  threatened  to  get  the  better  of 
prudence  and  expediency.  They  had  brought  but  one  bedstead, 
and  when  this  was  set  up  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  a  well-used, 
but  white  and  clean  table  in  another,  three  wooden  chairs  and  a 
stuffed  easy  one,  disposed  here  and  there,  a  chest,  a  trunk,  and 
Mark's  bench  and  box  of  tools  arranged  against  the  further  wall ; 
and,  upon  the  shelves,  the  clock,  a  churn,  and  a  few  vessels  for 
cookery  and  table  use,  the  house  was  furnished.  There  were  still 
unpacked  a  small  lot  of  books,  a  picture  or  two,  and  some  bits 
of  carpeting ;  but  these,  it  was  resolved,  after  a  second  and 
closer  survey  of  walls  and  floor,  should  remain  in  their  hiding 
places,  until  certain  necessary  processes  of  purification  were 
accomplished. 

"  Eben  Dwight  could  not  have  made  me  a  more  useful  present 
tan  that  set  of  carpenter's  tools,"  said  Mark,  as  they  drank 
rheir  crearaless  tea,  and  ate  the  bread  and  cheese,  delicious  ir 


IT  J    M  K  8  I  8  .  93 

relish,  after  their  day's  labor.  "  I  shall  have  to  wait  a  bit  for 
business  to  come  to  me,  and  this  will  give  us  a  fine  chance  to 
right  up  our  establishment.  Not  very  stylish  now,  it  must  be 
confessed;"  and  he  smiled.  "But ' everything  must  have  a  begin- 
ning/ as  my  ole  woman  says,  and  '  a  bad  beginning  makes  a  good 
ending.' " 

Bessy's  merry  laugh  chimed  in  with  his,  at  the  euccessfui 
mimicry  of  their  late  travelling-companion.  And  just  at  this 
moment,  there  pattered  upon  the  roof  the  heavy  rain,  that,  as 
we  have  seen,  disturbed  the  slumbers  of  Mrs.  Paxton's  exem- 
plary husband,  two  miles  further  on  the  way  to  his  often-quoted 
spouse. 

"  That  same  '  ole  woman '  must  be  a  second  Book  of  Proverbs," 
xmtinued  Mark. 

"  I  guess  she  is  a  pattern  wife  and  mother,"  said  Bessy,  "  and 
a  good  neighbor.  I  wish  she  were  not  twelve  miles  off".  And 
Mr.  Paxton  himself  was  as  kind  as  kind  could  be  to  us.  I  was 
sorry  to  part  with  him.  We  need  the  advice  of  somebody  used 
to  the  customs  of  this  country.  I  wonder,  for  instance,  where 
we  arc  to  get  milk.  You  and  I  can  live  without  it ;  but  Kitty 
ought  to  have  a  little." 

"  By  and  by,  we  will  have  a  cow,"  said  Mark. 

"  By  and  by  is  not  now,"  objected  the  practical  and  less  hope- 
ful wife.  "  Meanwhile  the  little  creature  will  suffer." 

"She  shall  not — never  fear.  I  will  see  Mr.  Sancroft  about 
ihe  milk.  As  our  temporary  landlord,  he  must  feel  some  interest 
in  us ;  although  I  can't  say  that  I  agree  with  him  in  calling  this 
a  '  commodious  cottage.'  He  lives  only  a  couple  of  miles  from 
iliis,  and  Ben  Lomond,  Mr.  Argyle's  house — is  hardly  half  a  mile 
ap  the  road.  We  shan't  starve,  depend  upon  it.  Work  is 
plcaty,  provisions  are  cheap,  and  fuel  is  to  be  had  for  the  picking 
up  In  these  immense  woods  back  of  us,  thousands  of  trees  rot 
pearly,  and  the  ground  at  this  season  i^  covered  thickly  with 


84  NEMESIS. 

kindling-wood.  You  and  Kitty  can  gather  enough  fagots  in 
one  morning  to  last  us  a  fortnight ;  and  in  the  same  time,  my 
axe  and  I  can  provide  heavy  logs  to  burn  for  a  month—  -and 
without  ever  felling  a  tree.  This  is  the  compact  between  Mr. 
Bancroft  and  myself.  I  am  at  liberty  to  use  whatever  I  find 
already  fallen.  It  was  my  notion,  and  he  raised  no  objection. 
Then,  he  ensures  me  the  entire  custom  of  Mr.  Argyle's  planta- 
tion, where  there  are  nearly  a  hundred  persons,  white  and 
colored,  and  promises  to  speak  a  good  word  for  me  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. He  is  getting  rich,  they  say;  yet  he  left  Connecticut 
fourteen  years  ago  with  just  seven  shillings  in  his  pocket  over  and 
"above  the  cost  of  his  passage  and  that  of  his  wife  and  child. 
This  is  a  great  country  I" 

"  I  hope  he  got  his  money  honestly,"  remarked  Bessy,  drily. 
"  It  is  very  likely  that  he  did.  A  man  who  understands  his 
business,  and  is  not  afraid  to  work,  cannot  help  getting  along. 
By  the  tune  our  little  beauty  is  grown,  Bessy,  you  and  she  will 
ride  past  this  hovel,  hi  your  coach  and  four,  and  forget  that  you 
ever  lived  in  it." 

Bessy  shook  her  head,  in  smiling  doubt;  but  the  pictures  drawn 
by  his  ardent,  buoyant  spirit  were  always  pleasant  to  her  mental 
vision,  and  too  probable  as  well  as  too  attractive  to  be  altogether 
disbelieved. 

The  weather  continued  lowering,  with  frequent  showers,  all 
through  the  three  following  days.  The  work  of  "  righting  the 
establishment "  went  on  bravely,  notwithstanding  the  state  of  the 
atmosphere  was  unpropitious  for  house-cleaning.  The  cottage 
had  one  architectural  excellence — a  chimney  with  a  good  draught; 
and  its  ample  jaws  were  kept  constantly  supplied,  for  the  fire  had 
much  to  do.  A  large  kettle  of  boiling  water  hissed  and  bubbled 
there,  all  of  three  days,  and  was  replaced  on  the  fourth  by  a  pot 
of  whitewash,  compounded  according  to  Mark's  peculiar  recipe. 
A.  small  glue-kettle  was  often  upon  the  embers  ;  their  frn.gal 


NEMESIS.  25 

jneals  were  prepared  there,  and  a  strong,  steady  heat  was  re 
quired  to  dry  the  room  after  its  repeated  scourings. 

They  were  tenants  of  their  new  house  nearly  a  week,  w 
seeing  a  white    neighbor,    excepting   a   quiet,    stupid   ba 
farmer,  whom  Mark  recollected  having  met  ou  his  former  v. 
the  South.     He  lived  in  a  house,  scarcely  superior  to  tli- 
mile  distant,  on  a  small  farm  owned  by  himself,  and  in  the  till.iu 
of  which  he  was  aided  by  two  or  three  negroes.     He  rode  by  the 
Hales'  door  about  sundown  of  the  day  succeeding  their  arrival, 
and  Mark  made  bold  to  answer  his  stare  and  bob  of  the  head 
by  stopping  him,  and  inquiring  whether  he  could  supply  them 
vrith  milk  from  his  dairy. 

A  prodigious  deal  of  explanation  had  to  be  employed  to  convey 
to  the  ulterior  of  his  thick  skull  the  idea  that  the  strangers  kept 
no  cow;  did  not  intend  purchasing  one  for  the  present,  and  there- 
fore desired  to  buy  milk,  and  to  pay  for  it  in  money — pence  and 
shillings.  The  case  was  unprecedented  in  his  not  extensive  expe- 
rience. Finally,  the  clear  tones  and  explicit  terms  of  the  Xew 
Englander  established  the  point  in  his  mind,  and  a  bargain  was 
struck,  that  was  satisfactory  to  both  parties, 

"  I  am  afraid  he  will  not  sleep  a  wink  to-nighi,"  laughed  Mark, 
as  the  rider  of  the  scrubby  pony  moved  off,  shaking  his  Lv,ad  from 
side  to  side,  and  turning  his  body  in  the  saddle  every  other 
minute,  to  look  back  at  the  man  who  had  just  named  and  closed 
such  an  arrangement. 

"  He  is  half-witted,  I  think,"  said  Bessy,  who  had  been  at 
once  an  amused  and  vexed  spectator  of  the  scene.  "  I  don't 
believe  we  will  ever  see  a  drop  of  milk  from  his  cows." 

But,  the  next  morning,  Kitty  ran  screaming  from  her  look-out 
at  the  door,  and  hid  behind  her  mother,  who  was  getting  break- 
fast. Bessy  could  not  chide  her  cowardice,  when  she  saw  its 
cause — the  ugliest,  blackest,  most  ragged  negro  urchin  she  had 
ever  beheld,  grinning  in  the  doorway,  holding  out  a  wooden  pail. 

* 


26  NEMESIS. 

"  Here's  yer  milk  !"  ho  said.     "  Want  de  piggin  'gin  !" 
J*  Wtuii !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Hale.     "  Mark,  do  come  here  I" 

Mark  entered  from  the  inner  room,  and  'after  questioning  the 
hoy,  interpreted  his  remark  to  mean  that  the  pail — "  piggin,"  in 
Virginia  parlance — was  to  be  returned  by  the  bearer.  It  was  a 
clean  cedar  vessel,  covered  with  a  white  cloth  ;  the  milk  was  fresh 
and  rich.  Bessy  almost  forgave  the  stupidity  of  the  farmer  and 
the  apish  appearance  of  his  Ganymede,  in  her  enjoyment  of  the 
nectar.  The  boy  was  a  good-natured  fellow,  and  so  far  from 
bearing  Kitty  any  grudge  for  her  impolite  reception  of  him, 
brought  her  an  apple  that  evening,  and  the  ensuing  day,  a  small 
bag  of  what  he  called  "  goober  peas  " — alias  peanuts — volunteer- 
ing the  information  that  she  was  "  a  mighty  pretty  little  gal  ;" 
that  his  name  was  "  'Polio,"  and  he  "  wasn't  gwine  to  hurt  her." 

"  That  child  makes  friends  everywhere,"  said  the  loving 
parents.  . 

They  did  not  disdain  this  ray  of  sunshine,  albeit  the  reflectoi 
was  of  doubtful  quality.  As  cleanliness  was  restored  (it  seemed 
rather  that  it  was  created)  Bessy's  spirits  reached  their  accus- 
tomed pitch.  In  her  old  home,  she  was  often  likened  to  her  pei 
bees.  People  said  she  had  watched  and  tended  them,  and 
studied  their  ways  of  life  and  work,  until  she  had  learned  their 
motions  and  their  music.  The  brisk  pendulum,  ticking  with  all 
its  little  might,  upon  the  shelf  ;  the  spark  of  light  caught  on  its 
bright  face,  lengthened  into  an  arc  by  its  swift  swing,  was  the 
only  thing  in  her  household  that  vied  with  her  in  lightness  and 
speed. 

As  we  said,  just  now,  they  had  been  a  week  in  their  log  domi- 
cile. It  was  a  mild  morning  in  balmy  Indian  summer,  that 
witching,  lovely  twilight  of  the  year.  Doors  and  windows  were 
open,  for  the  fire  could  not  be  allowed  to  go  down  upon  ironing- 
day.  The  smoky  rafters,  and  the  broken  walls  had  been  white- 
wasned  ;  the  floor,  by  dint  of  countless  scrubbings,  was  almost  as 


VEME8I8.  2? 

clean  as  the  table  *nd  chairs,  and  bore  upon  its  sanded  surface 
the  regular  and  graceful  waves  it  was  the  pride  of  skillful  house- 
wives to  trace  with  the  broom,  when  its  commoner  offices  were 
done.  The  bed  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  in  its  stead  was 
another  row  of  shelves  ;  the  lower  honored  by  holding  the  set 
of  real  china,  which  had  descended  to  Bessy  from  her  mother.; 
the  upper,  being  occupied  by  their  library,  neither  very  select  nor 
very  new,  but  by  no  means  contemptible,  in  an  age  when  good 
books  brought  almost  their  weight  hi  silver.  The  old  shelves  had 
been  taken  down  ;  the  rough  splinters  and  dirt  removed  by 
Mark's  plane,  and  then  readjusted  into  their  places,  in  a  more 
workmanlike  manner.  The  window-panes,  four  in  number,  which 
they  found  opaque  with  dust,  were  now  transparent  and  shining, 
and  over  them  parted  a  snowy  curtain.  Two  black  profiles  <if 
Mark's  parents  graced  one  wall ;  a  print  of  Christ  blessing  lit!  le 
children  another.  The  bench  and  tools  were  still  in  the  back  pa  ci 
of  the  room,  biding  the  time  for  their  use.  Their  owner's  mer  'y 
whistle  sounded  from  the  back  yard,  where  he  was  splitting 
wood.  Kitty  nursed  a  wooden  doll  with  exceeding  teuderneat ; 
seated  on  a  stool  hi  the  sunshine,  that  fell  broadly  through  tie 
door,  and  her  mother  flitted  back  and  forth  between  her  ironic  g- 
board  and  the  fire.  Upon  a  rude  clothes-horse  of  Mark's  ecu- 
structiou,  hung  an  array  of  garments,  warm  from  the  rapid  tou;b 
that  had  smoothed  their  damp  creases,  and  their  numbers  were 
continually  increased. 

She  was  a  well-built  figure,  this  shoemaker's  wife ;  rather  above 
the  medium  height  of  woman,  with  a  round,  pliant  form,  coquet- 
fcishly  displayed  by  the  checked  short  gown,  girdled  at  the  waist 
Her  sleeves  did  not  reach  the  elbow,  and  the  arms  they  left  un 
covered,  were  marvellously  reserved  touching  the  wash-tub  and 
the  fire,  so  soft  and  white  were  they,  in  their  plumpness.  The 
abundant  dark  hair  was  combed  quite  away  from  the  rosy  cheeki 
'  %nd  slightly  flushed  forehead;  her  profile  was  marked,  yet  deli 


28  NEMESIS. 

eately  uit ;  and,  as  she  stepped  to  and  fro,  her  blue  skirt  per- 
mitted A  critical  view  of  two  small  feet,  arched  in  the  instep,  and 
incased  in  neat  high-heeled  shoes.  Marie  was  very  fastidious  in 
the  matier  of  his  wife's  shoes.  In  short,  but  for  her  dress  and 
occupation,  she  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  titled  dame,  who, 
having  lost  her  way  and  her  retinue,  had  chanced  upon  a  peasant's 
cot. 

For  wught  we  can  say  to  the  contrary,  Bessy  Hale  may  have 
tfome  down  in  a  direct  line,  from  the  magnificent,  but  somewhat 
apocryphal  race  of  Irish  kings.  To  appease  the  prejudices  of 
tho^e  v,  ho  scout  at  Nature's  letters  patent  of  nobility,  unless  the 
same  Lave  been  ratified  by  the  signet  of  man-appointed  royalty, 
we  adoJt  our  ignorance  of  our  heroine's  pedigree,  further  back 
than  tUe  sturdy  Celtic  father,  who  fought  the  tyrants  of  his 
native  and  of  his  adopted  country  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill. 
The  sticklers  for  blood  and  breeding,  who  can  trace  patrician 
descent  in  the  lobe  of  an  ear;  descry  the  lees  of  a  plebeian  stock 
in  a  finder-nail,  may  give  Bessy  the  benefit  of  the  uncertainty,  so 
frankly  stated.  But  one  thing  we  do  stoutly  maintain ;  whatever 
might  l.e  the  quality  of  the  blood  stirring  so  warmly  in  her  veins, 
it  suffe)  ed  no  degradation  bv  her  alliance  with  the  manly  fellow, 
whose  HXC  was  flashing  over  his  head,  with  every  second;  the 
/inging  notes  sounding  back  sharply  from  the  hills.  It  drowned 
the  nowe  of  approaching  footsteps,  and  the  knock  against  the 
door-post. 

"  Mamma  !"  said  Kitty,  plucking  her  dress. 

Bessy  turned  and  saw  a  gentleman  standing  upon  the  threshold. 
Hastily  setting  down  her  iron,  she  advanced,  blushingly,  to  meet 
ftim. 

"  Mrs  Hale  ?"  said  he,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  My  name  is  Sancroft,  Mrs.  Hale.  I  hope  you  are  well,  thii 
fine  morning,  madam.  Is  your  husband  at  home  ?" 


NEMESIS.  29 

Bessy  offered  him  a  chair,  and  summoned  Mark. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hale  ?  how  do  you  do,  my  dear  sir  ?" 
jried  the  visitor,  shaking  hands.  "  Happy  to  welcome  you  to  the 
neighborhood  !  And  how  did  yon  bear  the  journey  ?  And  you, 
madam,  did  you  not  find  it  fatiguing  at  this  season  of  the  year  f 
And  this  is  your  little  girl !  Shake  hands  with  papa's  friend, 
sissy.  "What  is  your  name  ?  Hard  at  work,  I  see,  Mr.  Hale, 
Yankee  energy  in  full  blast — hey  ?" 

"  I  find  plenty  to  do,  certainly,  sir,"  replied  Mark. 

"  I  should  think  so,  indeed,  Mr.  Hale,"  casting  his  eyes  around 
the  homely  dwelling.  "  I  would  not  have  believed,  if  I  had  nof 
seen  it  with  my  own  eyes,  that  a  place  could  have  undergone  such 
a  transformation  in  so  short  a  time.  Mrs.  Hale,  you  are  a  necio* 
mancer.  It  is  not  every  woman  who  wields  snch  a  wand  as  yours. 
Mr.  Hale,  are  you  sure  that  her  broomstick  is  not  enchanted  1 
And  it  is  really  all  your  own  work  ?  I  should  hardly  know  the 
old  house.  We  are  not  used  to  these  reformations  in  this  part 
of  the  world,  Mr.  Hale.  Indeed,  we  are  not,  sir  I  You  must 
not  make  your  neighbors  envious.  I  shall  have  Mr.  Argyle'a 
other  tenants  upon  my  back,  for  all  this,  unless  I  take  paius  to 
trumpet  it  abroad  that  it  is  your  matter  and  not  mine  ;  I  wash 
my  hands  of  it.  How  did  you  do  it  ?  when  did  you  do  it  ?  I 
should  have  been  aver  before,  but  have  been  away  from  home, 
ever  since  your  arrival.  You  came  last  Wednesday — hey  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  Mark  contrived  to  say,  not  daring  to  look  at  Bessy, 
who  was  the  picture  of  puzzled  wonder. 

"  And  this  is  Tuesday  !  Why,  yes,  of  course — Tuesday  1  Don't 
let  me  hinder  your  work,  Mrs.  Hale  !  I  perceive  that  you  are  an 
accomplished  laundress.  So  is  my  wife,  I  am  a  family  man  my- 
self, my  dear  madam,  and  have  a  realizing  sense  of  the  import- 
ance of  house-work.  A  \eryfine  child,  Mr,  Hale.  What  is  her 
age,  did  you  say,  sir  ?  I  have  sbc  children — the  poor  man's  bless 
tag,  you  know,  sir.  I  dar*.  say,  now,  you  found  as  much,  if  not 


3u  NEMESIS. 

mori  -'thoarh  that  does  not  appear  possible — to  do  in  the  othel 
room  —hey  ?" 

"  You  can  judge  for  yourself,  sir,"  returned  Mark,  leading  tha 
way,  with  pardonable  pride,  into  the  smaller  apartment. 

The  whitewash  brush  had  done  its  duty  here,  also.  The  win- 
dow-frame was  supplied  with  glass,  which  the  provident  Mark 
had  foreseen  would  be  of  use  to  him  "in  the  backwoods."  There 
was  the  bed,  with  its  thick  blankets,  gay  patchwork  coverlet  and 
irreproachable  pillow  ;  and  at  its  foot,  Kitty's  packing-case, 
raised  by  blocks  of  wood  several  inches  above  the  floor  ;  a 
chintz  valance  tacked  around  the  top,  and  concealing  the  inele- 
gant nature  of  the  contrivance.  Another  box,  set  "up  on  end,  and 
similarly  attired,  was  the  wash-stand  ;  the  curtain  concealing  the 
convenient  depository  ot  shoes,  etc.,  thereby  formed.  The  rest 
of  the  floor  was  hidden,  with  its  inequalities  and  cracks,  by  mats 
made  of  many  colored  bits  of  cloth,  first  tacked  together  in  long 
strings,  which  were  braided  and  then  sewed  into  circular,  oval  or 
square  rugs".  It  was  a  cheap,  unique,  and  anything  but  unsightly 
carpet,  soft  to  the  foot,  and  exceedingly  durable.  The  cracks  at 
the  edges  of  the  door  and  casement  were  closed  by  strips  of  coarse 
list. 

Mr.  Sancroft  raised  his  hands  and  eyes  in  amazement,  that 
might  well  have  been  unfeigned. 

"  You  will  do,  sir !  you  will  succeed  in  life,  Mr.  Hale  !  Never 
give  yourself  one  particle  of  uneasiness  on  that  score.  I  am  proud 
of  you  as  a  fellow  Yankee — indeed  /  am  !  And  how  about  the 
wood,  Mr.  Hale  ?  I  heard  your  axe,  as  I  rode  up  to  the  door. 
Quite  a  pile  already,  I  see,  sir,"  his  gaze  darting  at  each  stick 
with  a  keenness  that  ought  to  have  saved  the  axe  further  trouble 
that  day. 

"  And  actually  a  pile  of  fagots  !  A  sight  I  have  not  seen 
before  in  seven — no,  in  seventeen  years  !  Let  me  handle  one  for 
old  acquaintance'  sake.  And  well  tied  up  they  are  too — quite 


S  K  M  E  8  I  g  .  31 

scientifically.  Yoo  are  no  novice  at  the  trade,  Mr.  Hale.  Ah 
me  !  how  it  reminds  me  of  the  times  when  my  brother  and  J 
used  to  take  our  lucheou  with  us,  and  spend  the  day  in  the 
a-oods."  ' 

He  put  the  bundle  of  sticks  back,  with  a  profound  sigh. 
"Pretty  spot  here  for  a  garden,  Mr.  Hale.  Rich  earth,  good 
exposure,  well-drained,  not  too  dry.  You'll  make  it  smile  next 
summer,  111  be  bound,  sir,  blossom  like  the  rose — hey  ?" 

"  If  I  can  get  it  inclosed,  meanwhile,"  said  Mark.  "  That  is 
one  thing  about  which  I  wished  to  speak" 

"  Of  course  !  of  course  1  it  must  be  fenced  in.  There  was  a 
noble  fence,  an  eight-railer  about  it  not  three  months  ago.  What 
am  /  saying  ?  Less  than  two  months  since.  I  remember  the 
circumstance  distinctly,  having  examined  the  premises  thoroughly 
during  our  correspondence  concerning  the  rent.  The  thievish 
negroes  have  been  preying  upon  your  property  already,  it  seems. 
As  the  nights  grow  cold,  they  lay  hands  upon  every  rail  and 
plank  they  find  loose.  You  must  be  on  your  guard,  Mr.  Hale. 
When  you  put  up  another  fence,  procure  0,-dog — a  savage  fellow. 
I  have  a  pup  that  will  suit  you  to  a  T — sharp  as  a  meat-axe. 
But  where  are  the  outhouses  ?  The  rascals  have  not  spared  them 
either.  I  am  surprised  they  left  the  chimney  or  the  roof.  You 
will  form  a  bad. idea  of  our  neighborhood,  Mr.  Hale.  I  am  sorry 
for  all  this — z/zdeed  I  am,  sir.  Let  me  send  you  the  dog  forth- 
with." 

"  I  think,  sir,"  Mark  would  say,  "  if  you  will  repair  the 
mischief  to  some  extent — say,  build  me  a  fence,  I  care  not  how 
rough,  and  one  or  two  sheds,  I  will  not  trouble  you  to  put  up  the 
dog-kennel.  Ah1  minor  repairs,  as  you  have  seeu,  I  am  willing  to 
make  at  my  own  expense." 

"  I  see,  sir,  I  sec  I  I  honor  your  independence,  Mr.  Hale.  It 
k*  worthy  of  th"e  land  of  your  birth  and  breeding,  sir.  Rest 
assured  that,  hi  my  next  report  to  Mr.  Argyle,  all  these  thinga 


32  NEMESIS. 


be  properly  set  forth,  and  no  appeal  of  mine  Le  wanting  to 
ensure  the  success  of  your  application.  Mr.  Argyle  is  now  abroad, 
you  are  aware,  sir." 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  I  bad  supposed  that  in  such  trifles  as  thesis, 
you  might  be  empowered  to  act  according  to  your  own  dis- 
cretion." 

The  agent  raised  his  shoulders  and  eyebrows.  "  Mistaken,  my 
dear  sir,  mistaken  !  Mr.  Argyle  is  a  wonderfully  punctilious  man. 
Mint,  anise  and  cummin  1  You  are  a  Bible  scholar,  like  myself, 
Mr.  Hale,  and  understand  the  allusion.  I  shall  make  it  my 
business  to  write  to  him  immediately.  May  I  ask  the  favor  of  a 
drink  of  water,  Mrs.  Hale  ?" 

They  were  now  back  again  in  the  front  and  larger  room,  and 
remarking  upon  the  heat  of  the  day,  Mr.  Sancroft  unbuttoned 
and  threw  open  his  great-coat,  seating  himself,  as  he  did  so,  in  the 
easy-chair.  He  was  a  tall,  spare  man,  apparently  from  forty  to 
forty-five  years  of  age,  with  lantern  jaws,  very  closely  shaven,  aa 
was  likewise  his  chin  ;  a  mouth,  that  whether  speaking  or  shut, 
was  always  smiling,  and  a  narrow,  steep  forehead  peaked  very  far 
up  over  the  temples.  His  hair  was  bushy  and  prematurely  grey; 
BO  hoary,  that  it  contrasted  curiously  with  a  pair  of  black  eye- 
brows, which  were,  by  far,  the  most  expressive  and  remarkable 
feature  of  Ms  face.  Rapidly  as  the  tongue  moved,  sudden  and 
frequently  ludicrously  abrupt  as  were  its  transitions  from  one  topic 
to  another,  the  eyebrows  were  never  caught  tripping.  They 
admired,  wondered,  regretted,  argued  in  exact  time  with  the 
words  that  streamed  forth  so  glibly  beneath  them.  They  were 
not  still  one  instant  while  he  was  speaking,  and  their  incessant 
play  would  1/ave  driven  a  nervous  man  to  distraction.  In  very 
animated  periods,  not  content  with  moving  themselves,  they  lii 
the  scalp  with  them,  and  then  Mr.  Bancroft's  iron-grey  fore-  & 
seemed  to  retreat  to  the  crowa  of  his  head.  He  was  an  endlesi 
talker  —  would  ask  a  dozen  questions  in  a  breath,  without  appear- 


f 


NEMESIS.  32) 

Ing  to  expect  An  answer  to  any  one  of  them,  and  just  when  tht 
listener  was  not  looking  for  him  to  pause,  would  bring  up 
"all  standing,"  as  the  phrase  is,  with  his  " Hey?" — eyebrows  and 
tougne  at  a  dead  lock,  until  the  startled  mind  of  the  questioned 
person  recovered  itself  sufficiently  to  make  reply.  This  habit, 
combined  with  his  incessant  aud  marked  repetition  of  the  names 
of  those  whom  he  addressed — a  practice,  then,  as  now,  affected  by 
the  underbred  and  pompous  ;  and  an  original  style  of  emphasis, 
referable  to  no  law  of  sense  or  elocution,  and  which,  having 
given  a  specimen  of  it,  we  shall,  to  spare  the  printer's  italics  and 
the  reader's  patience,  leave  to  the  imagination  for  the  future,  all 
together,  sent  Bessy  out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the  house. 
Calling  Kitty  to  accompany  her,  she  went  down  the  hill  to  the 
spring,  and  did  not  return  until  the  ring  of  Mark's  axe  advised 
her  that  the  coast  was  clear. 

Husband  aud  wife  exchanged  a  look  of  amused  intelligence  as 
their  eyes  met,  and,  flinging  his  axe  aside,  Mark  followed  Bessy 
into  the  kitchen.  In  their  honest  souls,  they  never  thought  ol 
calling  it  a  sitting-room,  although  they  had  no  other. 

"  Well,  Bess  ?" 

"  Well,  Mark  1" 

She  was  holding  a  dipper  of  water  to  Kitty's  lips,  roguishl) 
unconocious  that  he  was  awaiting  a  further  reply. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  our  landlord  ?"  Mark  was  obliged  to 
ask  outright. 

"  Mr.  Argyle  !  I  never  saw  him,"  was  the  'demure  rejoinder,  aa 
she  restored  the  dipper  to  its  nail. 

"  Nonsense,  you  tease  !     How  do  you  like  Mr.  Sancroft  ?" 

"  Not  at  all  1" 

Mark's  face  sobered.  He  had  expected  her  to  make  sport  of 
their  queer  visitor,  but  had  not  anticipated  the  dislike  expressed 
in  her  words  and  look.  He  knew  and  respected  his  sensible, 
spirited  wife  ;  valued  her  sound  intelligence  and  warm  heart,  but 

2* 


34  NEMESIS. 

tie  had  had  to  doal,  ere  this,  with  hci  prejudices,  and  the 
experience  had  taught  him  to  dread  the  thought  of  her  forming 
others.  Not  that  he,  himself,  had  any  especial  fancy  for 
Mr  Sancroft ;  that,  at  the  bottom  of  his  thoughts,  there  was  aot 
an  irritating"  seiise  that  he  had  been  egregiously  duped  by  his 
representations,  with  regard  to  the  hovel  rented  to  him  under  such 
a  specious  title,  but  since  it  was  too  late  to  repair  the  mischief,  no 
good  could  arise  from  entertaining  unfriendly  feelings  toward  the 
agent. 

v  "  He  is  odd  in  looks  and  manners,"  he  said,  "  but  these  are 
things  we  may  laugh  at,  without  blaming  him  for  what  he  cannot 
help.  He  means  well,  perhaps." 

"  I  suppose  he  does — for  himself  !"  answered  Bessy,  re-sprink- 
ling the  clothes,  which  had  become  dry  during  the  ill-timed  call. 
"  He  has  a  flinty  face  and  his  heart  is  harder.'^ 

"  Little  woman  1"  said  Mark,  in  mild  reproach.  "  That  is  not 
quite  charitable.  You  judge  harshly  of  a  man,  with  whom  you 
tiave  but  an  hour's  acquaintance." 

"  I  wish  it  were  all  I  am  likely  to  have  1"  Bessy  retorted,  will- 
fully. 

"  But  why  ?" 

Bessy  put  her  iron  down,  deliberately,  and  confronted  her  hus- 
band. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  began,  folding  her  arms,  and  beating  a 
tattoo  upon  the  lower  with  the  fingers  of  the  upper  hand.  "  In 
the  first  place,  he  has  '  kissed  the  Blarney-stone,'  as  my  father  used 
to  say  of  such  talkers.  I  always  distrust  a  flatterer.  Give  me 
an  honest  tongue — I  don't  care  how  blunt  it  may  be.  Then  he 
took  too  much  pains  to  convince  you  that  he  did  not  feel  above 
us.  He  was  proud  of  you  as  a  brother  Yankee  —and  all  that 
flummery — a  sure  proof  that  he  believed  himself  to  be  your  supe« 
fior,  'though  why  he  should  do  so,  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell  " — the 
'little  princess  digressed  to  "emark,  standing  considerably  highei 


HEMESI8.  85 

hi  her  trim  shoes  "  He  has  scraped  together  a  few  pounds  mor« 
than  you  have,  it  is  true,  but  I'll  warrant,  he  had  no  more  money 
when  he  was  your  age,  than  you  have  now,  and  hi  everything  else, 
you  are  worth  five  hundred  of  him .  Didn't  you  notice  what  he 
flaid  about  the  fence  and  outhouses  ?  Dou't  you  see  that  his  aim 
was  to  prove  that  the  premises  were  in  good  order,  when  you 
rented  the  place — the  wonderfully  commodious  cottage,  of  him  ?" 

"  But  what  signifies  that,  if  the  repairs  were  needed  when  I 
took  possession  ?" " 

"  He  would  make  it  out  that  you  took — or,  that  he  gave  pos- 
session at  once;  that  the  premises  passed  out  of  his  care  into 
yours,  the  day  the  terms  were  settled.  And  who  can  contradict 
this  ?  We  found  the  house  all  open,  you  remember.  It  may 
have  been_  unlocked  for  three  mouths.  Mark  my  words  !  When 
that  garden  is  fenced  in,  you  will  do  it  yourself.  Those  sheds 
will  never  be  built,  unless  you  put  them  up.  His  talk  about 
writing  to  Mr.  Argyle  was  a  poor  trick,  to  shift  the  weight  from 
his  own  shoulders." 

She  fell  to  ironing  with  a  bustling  show  of  diligence,  but  in  a 
minute  faced  about  again. 

"  Then,  couldn't  a  child  see  through  all  that  stuff  about  the 
"agots  and  his  brother  and  their  luncheon  and  old  times  ?" 

"  I  didn't — and  I  am  hardly  a  baby." 

"  Didn't  you  engage  to  cot  and  gather  dry  wood  and  sticks  ? 
If  there  had  been  ten  drops  of  sap  in  that  pile  of  logs,  his  hawk 
eyes  would  have  counted  them.  His  only  reason,  in  coming  here 
to-day  was  to  see  what  kind  of  tenants  we  were  likely  to  be.  He 
is  sure  of  one  quarter's  rent,  since  it  was  paid  in  advance,  but  he 
keeps  a  long  look  a-head.  Now^  that  he  is  convinced  that  we 
are  decent  and  industrious,  and  not  disposed  to  ruin  Mr.  Argyle, 
by  cutting  down  his  timber,  I  hope  he  will  be  remarkably  scarce 
of  his  eyebrows  here.  And  what  a  way  he  has  of  jerking  out 
gome  words  and  running  all  the  rest  together  !  Ugh  1  I  nevei 


56  NEMESIS. 

could  bear  a  man  whose  scalp  worked  backward  and  forwa..  d, 
in  that  disgusting  manner  1" 

In  true  womanly  style  of  argument,  Bessy's  harangue,  perti- 
ninent  and  forcible  in  the  mam,  wound  up  with  the  weakest  point. 
Mark  forgot,  in  his  burst  of  laughter  at  her  last  absurd  clause, 
that  much  of  what  she  had  been  saying,  had  struck  him  as  true 
as  she  brought  out  the  yarious  heads.  It  was  not  in  his  nature 
to  take  trouble  on  interest,  and  kissing  the  burning  cheek  of  the 
disconcerted  orator,  he  dismissed  Mr.  Bancroft  by  putting  forward 
a  more  pleasing  subject.  The  odd  jobs  about  the  premises  were 
disposed  of  sufficiently  to  allow  of  his  return  to  his  legitimate 
calling.  He  now  solicited  his  wife's  aid  in  putting  up  his  sign, 
which  had,  up  to  this  time,  lain  undisturbed  hi  the  bottom  of  a 
cKest. 

After  a  good  deal  of  serious  consultation,  it  was  decided  at 
length,  to  place  it  between  the  window  and  the  door,  at  an  equal 
distance  from  the  roof  and  from  the  ground.  Mark  and  Bessy 
went  out  to  the  road  to  enjoy  the  effect  and  to  be  certain  that  it 
was  conspicuous  enough  to  catch  the  eye  of  a  careless  passer  by 
It  was  a  complete  success.  Even  from  the  highway,  across  the 
field,  a  tolerably  keen  sight  could  distinguish  tbe  black  letters 
"?  r  white  ground — 


MARK    HALB 

SHOEMAKER." 


VEMEBIB.  37 


CHAPTER  III. 

BEN  LOMOND,  Mr,  Argyle's  mansion,  although  neither  the 
oldest  nor  largest  house  in  the  neighborhood,  was  yet  invested  with 
pretensions  that  enabled  it  to  hold  up  its  peaked  roof  and  round 
chimneys  with  the  grandest  in  the  country.  The  centre  building 
was  of  hard,  dark-red  brick,  which  had  been  transported  to  this 
inland  region  from  across  the  ocean,  by  the  founder,  the  elder  of 
the  emigrant  Argyles. 

The  causes  assigned  for  his  expatriation  were  divers,  and  not 
altogether  reconcilable.  The  speculation  most  favored  bj>  the 
family  and  their  Mends,  was  of  political  and  ecclesiastical  perse« 
cutions,  from  which  he  barely  escaped  with  his  life  and  liberty, 
and  his  small  household.  In  the  early  and  inconsiderate  days  of 
the  son,  the  present  proprietor,  he  had  ventured  to  give  this 
shadowy  persecution  a  form  and  date;  dilating  to  round-eyed 
wide-mouthed  listeners,  upon  the  baseness  of  royal  oppression  y 
the  tyranny  of  the  perfidious  house  of  Stuart;  the  deaths  on  the 
scaffold  of  two  peers  of  the  realm — father  and  son — descendants 
of  the  grand,  rugged  old  chieftain,  MacCallum  More;  and  how, 
driven  from  the  land  of  his  birth  by  the  same  relentless  enmity, 
one  of  the  race  and  name  had  fled  over  the  Atlantic  to  escape  a 
like  fate.  The  Argyle  name  was  not  disgraced  by  the  causeless 
taint  of  "  treason;"  the  blood  of  the  noblest  of -Scotland's  peer- 
ages was  none  the  poorer  because  it  ran  in  the  veins  of  a  handful 
5'  untitled  exiles. 

Amid  the  winks  and  whispered  jeers  of   the  minority,   whs 

f 


88  NEMESIS. 

appi-eciated  the  tale  as  a  joke,  and  the  sympathy  and  reverence 
of  the  many,  who  swallowed  it  as  a  verity,  without  thinking  of 
subsequent  digestion,  the  ambitious  "  laird,"  as  his  college-mutes 
dubbed  him,  was  suffered  to  proceed,  until  one  day,  the  hour  and 
the  man  having  come,  a  certain  waggish  fellow  stood  forth,  and 
made  proclamation  of  a  most  surprising  instance  of  longevity  as 
exemplified  in  Argyle,  senior.  "  He  had  been  driven  from  his 
native  Highlands,  according  to  the  son's  showing,  by  the  remorse- 
less hatred  of  an  ungrateful  dynasty,  and  found  an  honored 
asylum  in  the  wilds  of  America.  There  he  had  raised  a  family 
and  a  forture,  and  notwithstanding  his  perils,  hardships,  and 
labors,  was  now  enjoying  the  evening  of  a  well-spent  life — in  fact, 
renewing  his  prime  if  not  his  youth.  He  might  easily  be  mistaken 
for  a  man  of  fifty,  when,  as  the  date  of  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor — 
the  disastrous  day  that  saw  the  downfall  of  his  illustrious  kinsman 
— proved  he  was  in  reality  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  he 
having  been  a  man  grown  and  married  at  the  time  of  his 
flight !" 

The  luckless  butt  of  this  unmerciful  sport  never  forgot  nor 
forgave  its  author  and  endorsers.  Throughout  his  life,  the  impru- 
dent tongue  that  let  slip  in  his  presence  the  sobriquet,  "  MacCal- 
lam  More,"  which  still  perpetuated  the  remembrance  of  his 
boyish  mortification,  was  sure  to  incur  the  weight  of  his  deep 
displeasure. 

The  unpopular  and  unromantic  opinion  of  those  who  had  the 
best  opportunities  of  knowing  the  first  Argyle  who  honored  the 
western  continent  by  making  it  his  home,  was  that  his  "removal 
to  the  new  world  was  strictly  a  business  investment.  His  steady 
devotion  to  Mammon,  his  near  pinching  and  his  overreaching,  his 
grinding  and  his  grasping,  were  to  their  minds  indubitable  testt 
inony  that  money-getting  and  money-saving  were  intred  and 
paramount  to  all  nobler  passions.  His  son,  with  a  more  liberal 
education,  was  almost  as  narrow  and  selfish  in  his  views  and 


N  E  M  E  6  I  B  .  39 

nims.  His  life  was  a  ceaseless  toil  to  maintain  the  family  honor 
by  means  of  a  show  of  luxury  and  abundance,  without  draining 
the  family  coffers.  In  pursuance  of  this  policy,  he  was  now 
s-p'-uding  a  year  abroad;  the  place  and  style  of  his  retirement  a 
secret  to  all  his  neighbors  excepting  Mr.  Bancroft,  who,  every 
quarter,  dispatched  a  bulky  missive  to  an  obscure  town  in 
Scotland.  Mrs.  Argyle,  a  lady  of  rare  excellence  and  personal 
beauty,  had  been  long  dead.  The  two  daughters  were  being 
polished  in  Madame  Finiss<-z's  fashionable  seminary,  New  York 
city,  and  Malcolm,  the  second  child  and,  sole  male  heir,  was 
studying  Greek  and  politics  at  William  and  Mary  college.  The 
future  man  of  the  people  would  be  more  acceptable  in  his  native 
State  if  his  Alma  Mater  were  a  domestic  institution. 

During  the  absence  of  the  chief  rulers  of  the  household,  thfl 
negroes  worked  the  plantation  ;  the  overseer,  a  shrewd  Scotch- 
man, brought  up  by  Mr.  Argyle  for  .this  post,  worked  the  negroes, 
and  Mr.  Bancroft's  fingers  and  eyebrows  were  everywhere.  Mean- 
while, the  house  was  shut  against  all  outsiders,  with  the  exception 
of  one  wing,  remote  from  the  principal  building.  The  place 
looked  well,  in  spite  of  an  indescribable  ah*  of  desolation,  the 
effect  of  the  closed  windows  and  smokeless  chimneys.  The  site 
was  commanding  ;  a  ridge,  sloping  to  the  west  and  south,  in  culti- 
vated lands,  watered  by  a  winding  stream,  that  imparted,  more- 
over, variety  and  beauty  to  the  landscape  ;  and  sheltered  from 
the  cold  winds  of  the  north  and  east  bv  the  grand  forest,  which 
overspread  with  a  solemn  sea  of  verdure  two-thirds  of  the  estate. 

The  original  building  was  two  stories  high,  and  the  high  roof 
was  pierced  with  semicircular  openings  to  light  a  roomy  attic. 
The  eaves  frowned  darkly  over  the  upper  row  of  chamber  windows, 
and  a  porch,  also  peaked  in  roof,  and  covered  with  rounded 
shingles,  overlapping  one  another  after  the  manner  and  appear- 
ance of  fish-scales,  ;utted  out  boldly  in  front,  like  a  mailed  sentinel* 
watching  over  the  valley.  At  the  right,  left  and  rear,  had  been 


,40  NEMESIS. 

added  wooden  wings,  of  architecture  almost  as  solid  and  grave  in 
its  character,  as  was  the  brick  house.  The  sun  and  storm  haa 
been  the  painters,  and  these  had  produced  a  mellow  brown  hue, 
that  harmonized  not  indifferently  with  the  color  of  the  rest  of  the 
pile.  One  tall,  spreading  cedar  shadowed  the  porch,  and  on 
either  side  of  the  gate  stood,  hale  and  green,  a  box-tree,  fifty 
years  old.  The  front  lawn  was  separated  from  the  kitchen  yard, 
by  a  hedge  of  broom,  of  the  laird's  planting,  and  which  was  at 
once  his  delight,  and  the  cordial  detestation  of  the  little  negroes, 
whose  associations  with  the  flexile  twigs  were  of  the  most  lively 
and  pungent  nature.  Following  the  path,  which,  at  one  cornel 
of  the  house,  made  a  gap  in  this  evergreen  fence,  one  came  upon 
the  back  building  and  entered  the  housekeeper's  jurisdiction. 

And  here,  on  a  frosty  Monday  morning,  early  in  December, 
Miss  Barbara  Brook  busied  herself  and  her  myrmidons  in  the 
momentous  work  of  "  getting  the  week  started." 

"  Let  me  once  get  fair  holt  of  it,  a  Monday  morning  1"  said  the 
enterprising  female,  clutching  at  an  invisible  hebdomadal  adversary, 
with  a  gesture  akin  to  one  which  we  remember  to  have  seen 
"  bring  down  the  house,"  at  a  college  exhibition,  when  a  grace 
ful  Freshman  essayed  to  "  pluck  up  drowned  Honor  by  the  locks." 
"  Let  me  get  fair  holt  of  it,  and  start  it  right ;  set  it  on  its  legs, 
myself,  and  happen  what  may,  I  am  sure  of  coming  out  straight 
and  square  on  Saturday  night  !" 

A  mischievous  observer  would  have  said  that  there  was  little 
danger  of  any  other  result  to  her,  individually.  Straight  and 
square,  Nature  had  made  her,  and  she  had  sought  oat  no  inven- 
tion wherewith  to  alter  or  improve  the  model.  Straight  as  to 
limbs,  spine,  neck  and  sandy  hair  ;  square  as  to  shoulders,  elbows, 
brow,  chin — even  toes.  She  was  not  over  five  feet  in  height,  and 
was  attired  in  a  homespun  woollen  garment,  in  whose  plaids  red 
and  yellow  were  the  prevailing  tints,  and  whose  cut  and  fit  are 
best  described  by  saying  that  her  rula  of  "  straight  and  square," 


NEMESIS.  41 

had  not  been  departed  from  The  room  was  spacious  and  com 
fortable.  At  one  end  of  it  was  a  loom,  and  nearer  the  fis-place 
a  spinning-wheel,  each  presided  over  by  a  sable  handmaiden.  A 
third  was  curding  wool,  and  still  a  fourth,  a  mere  child,  was  sit- 
ting flat  in  the  middle  of  the  apartment,  picking  cotton,  assisted 
or  hindered,  by  a  boy  of  about  the  same  size,  and  of  as  lustrous 
an  ebony  as  herself.  This  couple  were,  on  this  particular  occa- 
sion, Miss  Barbara's  most  grievous  obstacle  to  setting  the  week 
upon  its  legs: 

"  Tony  !  what  are  you  about  thar  ?" 

"  Nuthin',  Miss  Barbary." 

"  So  it  seems  1"  stopping  behind  him,  to  rap  his  head  with  the 
huge  brass  thimble  that  never  left  her  finger. 

"  Tumble  tough  cotton  I"  said  the  boy.  "  You  ever  seen 
tougher,  Suke  ?" 

"  Dat  I  ain't  1"  responded  his  co-worker  "  'Pears  like  de 
seeds  warn't  'tended  to  come  out  1" 

"  'Pears  like  you  warn't  'tended  to  work,  you  mean,"  was  tho 
contemptuous  retort  of  the  taskmistress.  "  I  reckon  if  the  seed 
was  good  to  eat,  they'd  slip  out  like  they  was  greased.  Chloe 
Ann  !  I  should  think  that  a  girl  who  went  to  roost  last  night 
with  the  chickens,  and  couldn't  be  got  off  of  it,  till  after  milking- 
time  this  morning,  might  keep  her  eyes  open  long  enough  to  card 
half  a  dozen  rolls.  I'll  put  you  to  bed  some  day,  and  not  let  you 
git  up  for  a  week." 

The  carder  rolled  her  eyes,  and  showed  her  teeth  in  a  way  that 
betrayed  little  dread  of  the  prescription.  The  weaver  was  a  dark 
mulatto,  tall  and  powerfully  made,  with  features  that  betokened 
no  common  character.  Her  task  went  forward  diligently,  and 
Miss  Barbara's  glance  over  her  shoulder  was  one  of  approval,  not 
distrust. 

"  You  never  wove  a  smoother  piece  of  linen  than  that,  Sarah," 
•she  remarked,  knitting  away  at  the  stocking  that  never  had  hei 


12  N  E  M  K  S  I  S  . 

eye  for  ATI  instant.     "  I  think  we  will  bleach  it,  and  lay  it  by  foi 
your  Miss  Eleanor  s  wedding  outfit." 

The  woman  smiled  without  speaking,  but  she  looked  neither 
indifferent  to  the  beauty  of  the  work,  nor  to  the  praise  bestowed 
upon  it. 

"  Dar  !"  ejaculated  Tony,  pricking  up  his  ears,  like  a  pointer 
puppy.  "  Somebody  comin'  I"  , 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  demanded  Miss  Barbara. 

"  I  hear  'um  clean  he  foot  'pon  de  mat  in  de  porch.  Dar  !  what 
I  tell  you  ?"  and  tumbling  heels  over  head  in  his  haste  to  answer 
the  summons,  he  unclosed  the  door  before  Bessy  Hale  had  with- 
drawn her  hand  after  her  hesitating  knock. 

"  Can  I  see  Miss  Brook  ?"  she  asked  of  the  boy. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Miss  Barbara,  shoving  him  aside.  "  Get  to 
your  work,  sir.  Be  pleased  to  walk  in,  ma'am.  Take  a  seat  by 
the  fire.  Tony,  bring  in  some  wood — no  I  you  do  it,  Chloe  Ann. 
£f  he  gets  out  of  this  room  we  won't  see  him  again  till  night.  A 
cold  day,"  she  continued  to  Bessy,  catching  up  a  broom  and  plying 
it  fussily  upon  a  hearth  already  as  clean  as  hands  could  make  it. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  very  cold,"  responded  Bessy.  The  bustle  of  her 
reception  had  given  her  time  to  collect  her  ideas  and  words. 

"  Take  off  your  bonnet,"  pursued  the  hospitable  housekeeper. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  ma'am  ;  I  have  only  a  few  minutes  to 
stay."  Her  color  mounted  higher,  but  she  went  on  in  the  same 
quiet,  firm  tone.  "  We  have  moved  to  this  part  of  the  country, 
lately.  My  husband  is  a  shoemaker,  and  has  rented  a  house  not 
far  from  here,  belonging  to  Mr.  Argyle." 

<!  I  know,"  nodded  Miss  Barbara  ;  "  the  old  overseer's  house. Tf 

"  Yes,  ma'am.     He  hopes  to  get  work  enough  to  support  his 
family  after  a  while  ;  but  of  course,  we  cannot  expect  to 
come  in  all  at  once,  before  he  is  known.     We  have  but  one  child, 
TIOW  more  than  three  years  old,  and  I  have  a  great  deal  of  spare 
time.     And,  so  '  thought  it  would  be  a  help  to  us  if  I  could  get 


NEMESIS.  43 

Borne  plain  sewing  to  do,  aud — and — knowing  that  your  fanrilj 
was  very  large,  I  guessed  you  might  wish  to  employ  a  seam- 
stress, now  and  then.  I  cau  cut  and  fit  tolerably  well,  and 
stitch  very  fast." 

During  this  speech  Miss  Barbara's  eyes  were  as  busy  as  het 
clicking  needles,  and  before  its  termination,  concise  as  it  was,  she 
had  arrived  at  several  irreversible  conclusions.  Firstly,  and 
chiefly,  that  she  had  taken  a  fancy  to  Bessy.  She  said  to  herself 
that  she  had  never,  in  all  her  born  days,  seen  a  prettier  picture 
than  the  girlish-looking  wife  and  mother,  as  she  sat,  with  her 
clasped  fingers  upon  her  knee,  looking  modestly  into  the  fire,  th« 
hood  of  her  red  cloak  pushed  back  from  her  face,  but  not  so  far 
that  it  did  not  shed  a  deeper  rose  upon  the  blooming  cheek. 
"  She  was  pretty  spoken,  too,"  she  added.  Her  northern  accent 
lent  a  charm  to  her  language.  It  was  so  unlike  Mr.  Sancroft's 
nasal  twang  !  Next,  being  no  drone  herself,  she  was  pleased 
that  the  woman  wanted  work  ;  that  she  did  not  fold  her  arms 
idly  and  let  her  husband  maintain  her.  Then,  as  a  clinching  con- 
sideration, the  application  was  made  to  her,  as  the  rightful  head 
of  the  household,  in  the  master's  absence,  and  not  to  that  odious 
Saucroft,  who,  if  he  had  his  way,  would  measure  every  quart  of 
meal,  and  count  every  potatoe  that  went  out  of  her  store-room 
and  cellar. 

And,  with  a  toss  of  the  head,  meant  for  him  and  not  for  the 
applicant,  Miss  Barbara  made  up  her  mind,  as  Bessy  uttered  the 
last  word. 

*'  I  am  behindhand  with,  my  sewing,"  she  proceeded,  directly  to 
the  point.  "  Such  a  thing  hasn't  happened  in  this  house  before, 
for  ages.  But  niy  best  hand — her  that  helps  most  about  making 
the  negroes'  clothes— has  a  run-around  on  her  finger,  and  can't 
let  a  stitch." 

The  feminine  pronoun  helped  Bessy  to .  understand  that  the 
•  afflicted  digit  was  not  Miss  Brook's  own  personal  member; 


44  NEMESIS. 

but  of  whal  "  a  run-around "  was,  she  had  a  very  imperfect 
notion. 

"  It's  pretty  heavy  work  1"  said  Miss  Barbara.  "  Loofe 
Here  1" 

She  lifted  the  lid  of  a  chest,  and  drew  out  divers  bundles  of 
homespun,  men's  coats,  women's  frocks,  and  boys'  trowsers. 

"  Aiut  it  a  sight  fit  to  break  a  woman's  heart  ?"  said  Miss 
Brook,  pathetically.  "  -'Specially,  when  I  don't  get  a  minute  to 
set  down  to  it,  from  sunrise  to  sundown.  Trot !  trot  I  trot  1  the 
whole  enduring  tune,  after  folks" — an  ireful  look  at  spinner, 
carder  and  cotton-pickers — "  who  wouldn't  earn  the  salt  to  their 
bread,  if  I  weren't  everlastingly  at  their  heels." 

"  I  don't  mind  it's  being  heavy,"  answered  Bessy,  whose  eyes 
had  sparkled  at  sight  of  the  unmade  clothing.  "  Aud  I  know 
something  about  tailoring.  My  mother  made  me  learn  the 
trade  partly  before  I  was  married.  I  make  all  my  husband's 
clothes.'' 

"  Very  we"  1"  The  nod  said  more  than  the  tongue.  "  Now. 
about  the  price  of  your  work.  Would  you  like  your  pay  iu 
money,  or  will  it  be  as  convenient  to  take  it  out  in  produce— < 
meat,  eggs,  and  so  forth  ?" 

Bessy  stammered — "  I  cannot  say  yet  ;  I  did  not  tell  my 
husband  that  I  was  coming  here,  or  that  I  intended  to  take  in 
sewing.  I  was  afraid  he  might  think  that  I  would  have  too 
much  to  do  with  it,  and  washing  and  cooking,  and  my  own  work 
besides.  I  mast  talk  with  him,  before  I  can  decide  which  kind 
of  payment  would  suit  us  best." 

"  Don't  you  keep  no  servants  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am  1"  surprisedly. 

Miss  Barbara  dropped  the  roll  of  cloth. 

"  Hear  that,  now  1  And  you  as  nice-looking  and  genteel  BM 
any  lady  1  That  beats  all  independence  ever  I  heard  of.  Catch 
a  Virginny  girl  doing  that !  Every  overseer's  wife  must  have  a 


NEMESIS.  ti 

oegro  to  wait  upon  her,  if  she  hasn't  a  decent  coat  to  her  own  or 
her  children's  backs  You're  made  of  the  right  stuff !  None  of 
your  slazy  goods  that  go  to  pieces  in  the  washing — like  half  of 
the  women  that  git  married  these  days.  Pick  out  what  you 
Junk  you  can  do,  and  I'll  send  it  down  to  your  house.  It  will  \t*r 
too  big  a  bundle  for  you  to  tote  (carry)." 

Habitual  prudence  mastered  her  enthusiasm  sufficiently  to 
induce  her  to  propound  some  inquiries  as  to  Bessy's  estimate  of 
the  value  of  her  labors,  and  finding  it  moderate,  she  readily 
agreed  to  give  it,  or  its  equivalent,  when  the  job  should  be  com- 
pleted. 

A  proud  and  a  happy  heart  Bessy  Hale  carried  back  to  her 
humble  home.  She  was,  as  every  wife  should  be,  her  husband's 
confi-lante  in  business  affairs,  and  could  not  be  deluded  by  his 
sanguine  predictions  of  the  better,  because  busier  days  coming, 
into  forgetfulness  of  their  present  condition.  Then1  slender  stock 
of  money  was  running  low,  and  the  stores  they  had  brought  with 
them  could  not,  by  the  utmost  frugality,  be  made  to  last  much 
longer.  Fresh  meat,  butter,  and  green  vegetables  were  luxuries 
that  rarely  appeared  upon  their  table,  and  even  the  small  sum  dis- 
bursed for  the  lailk,  so  indispensable  to  Kitty's  health  and  com 
fort,  was  beginning  to  be  felt  as  a  serious  outlay.  All  thia 
while — nearly  four  weeks — Mark  had  had  but  one  customer, 
Mr.  Slocum,  the  bachelor-farmer,  who  called  to  get  a  shoe 
mended,  and  "  'sposed  they'd  take  it  out  in  milk." 

Bessy  danced  rather  than  walked  down  the  long  hill,  near  the 
foot  of  which  stood  then-  cottage.  Arrived  within  a  dozen  yards 
of  it,  she  ~'i\\  Mark,  also  approaching  by  a  wood-path.  A  fagot 
ing  expedition  of  his,  with  Kitty  as  attendant,  had  furnished 
ife  with  a  chance  to  carry  her  secretly  matured  plan  into 
execution.  She  had  intended  to  be  home  in  advance  of  him,  but 
the  success  of  her  scheme  made  her  careless  how  soon  it  was  dis 
closed.  Therefore  she  stood  still,  and  watched  him  through  the 


46  NEMESIS 

naked  branches  of  brushwood.  He  walked  wearily;  a  load  of 
fagots  strapped  on  his  shoulders,  and  his  axe  in  the  hollow  of  his 
arm.  It  was  not  fatigue  alone  that  shaded  his  countenance  and 
clogged  his  feet.  She  felt  sure  of  that.  The  drooping  muscles 
of  the  mouth  and  the  contracted  brow  were  indices  of  inward  && 
quiet,  which  she  could  understand — and  relieve  1  As  her  heart 
.eaped  lightly  with  the  last  thought,  Kitty,  who  was  scampering 
afong  before  her  father,  espied  the  red  cloak,  and  cried  out, 
"  Mamma  !" 

Mark  looked  up  instantly,  but  not  so  quickly  that  the  affec- 
tionate creature  regarding  him  did  not  detect  the  short,  hard 
struggle  with  which  he  manned  himself  to  meet  her  cheerfully. 

"  Halloo,  Little  Red  Riding  Hood  I"  he  exclaimed,  as  she  ran 
forward  to  meet  him.  "  Where  have  you  been,  decked  out  in 
your  holiday  rig  ?" 

"To  see  my  grandmother,  and  she  didn't  eat  me  up 
either  1" 

Then  followed  a  recital  of  her  adventure  and  its  result.  Mark 
said  truly  that  he  would  have  forbidden  the  undertaking,  if  she 
had  solicited  his  counsel ;  and  there  was  a  temporary  uprising  of 
manly  and  generous  pride  at  the  idea  of  her  supporting  him 
which  required  an  infinity  of  coaxing  and  some  tears  from  Bessy 
to  overrule.  But  he  called  her  "  a  noble,  good,  trne  wife,"  and 
onr  busy  bee  was  triumphant. 

Miss  Barbara's  first  payment  was  in  produce,  and  the  basket 
having  been  packed  by  herself,  our  cottage  friends  conceived  a 
happy,  if  not  a  very  just  impression  of  the  cheapness  of  provisions 
;n  that  region.  Mark's  wounded  pride  had  a  salvo  the  same  day, 
in  the  shape  of  an  order  from  Mr.  Selden,  a  neighboring  planter, 
for  half  a  dozen  pairs  of  children's  shoes,  his  shoeiLaker  being 
confined  to  his  bed  by  sickness. 

Mr.  Bancroft  had  not  concealed  from  Mark,  when  making  tho 
representations  that  lured  him  to  this  new  set  ,lement,  that  it  was 


N  E  M  K  8  I  8  .  «7 

the  custom  oil  every  farm  to  educate  certain  of  the  more  intelli- 
gent negroes  in  tue  different  mechanical  arts,  which  were  most 
frequently  called  into  requisition  in  an  agricultural  district.  There 
was  no  plantation  without  its  blacksmith  and  carpenter.  The 
shoemaker  and  wheelwright  were  generally  more  public  institu- 
tions, receiving  the  custom  of  several  families.  The  Argyle  Cris- 
pin was  defunct  before  Mark's  removal,  but  all  the  hands  were 
already  shod  for  the  whiter,  when  he  came,  and  so  far  as 
he  was  informed,  the  leather  was  indestructible,  for  not  a  stitch 
had  he  been  requested  to  take  toward  repairs,  or  a  second  supply 

Thus  matters  were  on  Christmas  Eve,  when  Bessy  carried 
home  the  last  parcel  of  sewing  the  great  chest  had  for  her. 

"  I  was  intending  to  run  down  to  see  you  some  time,  to-day," 
said  Miss  Barbara,  squarely  as  usual. 

Bessy  looked  surprised,  but  pleased.  She  had  no  neighbors, 
no  visitors.  She  seemed  out  of  place  in  the  community,  whereas, 
in  the  dear  old  tunes,  social  calls  and  tea-drinkings  were  every 
afternoon  occurrences.  She  was  not  lonely  or  dispirited.  How 
could  she  be,  with  Mark  and  Kitty  ?  but  she  was  young  and 
lively,  and  had  a  natural  fondness  for  company. 

"  Since  you  are  here,  I  will  save  my  visit  for  another  time,' 
went  on  Miss  Barbara.  "  I  wanted  to  invite  you  and  your  hus- 
band and  your  baby,  to  eat  my  Christmas  turkey  with  me,  to 
morrow.  Will  you  come  ?" 

"  With  great  pleasure,  ma'am  ;  that  is,  if  Mark  can.  He  has 
been  right  busy  lately,"  she  added,  with  evident  pride. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it  1"  She  did  not  hint  that  Mr.  Selden  had 
acted  upon  her  recommendation.  "  But  tell  him  from  me,  that 
nobody  in  these  parts  does  a  stroke  of  work  on  Christmas  day. 
He  mast  come,  and  don't  forget  the  baby.  /  never  know  how  tc 
entertain  children,  but  I'll  give  her  enough  to  eat,  and  a  dozen 
black  picaninnies  to  divert  her,  if  she  wants  'em." 

"  She  will  not  need  them,  I  guess      She  has  never  been  mucli 


48  N  K   VI  it  8  I  B  . 

used  to  the  company  of  other  children,  and  is  satisfied  to  plaj 
around,  quietly,  while  grown  people  are  talking." 

"  She's  a  wonder  then  ! — a  live  miracle  !  I  have  sometivnea 
thought  there  must  be  comfort  in  having  a  good  child — but,  law 
me  !  where  did  you  ever  see  one  that  didn't  pester  the  life  out  of 
irerybody  that  had  anything  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"  Mine  doesn't  I"  remarked  the  mother,  smilingly. 

SliG  was  learning  what  Miss  Barbara's  ways  meant,  and  pri- 
vately questioned  the  genuineness  of  her  professed  repugnance  to 
little  folks. 

Kitty's  early  head  could  hardly  lie  still  upon  the  pillow  that 
night,  through  excess  of  excitement.  That  memorable  Christmas 
Eve,  her  stocking  was  hung  in  the  chimney  corner  for  the  first 
time  !  While  her  father  held  her  on  his  knee,  and  told  her  of 
the  kind  Santa  Glaus,  who  was  to  come  down  the  wide  chimney, 
while  she  was  asleep,  with  a  pocket  full  of  nice  things  for  the 
little  girl  who  minded  her  parents,  and  had  entirely  given  up  the 
bad  habit  of  crying  for  what  she  was  told  she  could  not  have  ;  her 
mother  pinned  a  loop  to  one  of  a  pair  of  striped  stockings  and 
fastened  it  to  a  nail  by  the  fire-place,  where  no  saint,  with  half 
an  eye,  or  half  his  wits  about  him,  could  overlook  it.  Besides 
this  brilliant  prospect  for  the  morrow,  she  was  "  going  visiting." 
Her  clean  clothes  were  spread  on  a  chair,  in  the  kitchen,  before 
she  went  to  bed,  that  they  might  be  aired  and  ready  against  the 
morning.  There  they  lay — the  crimson  worsted  frock  ;  the  white 
pinafore  ;  the  red  and  white  stockings  ;  the  black  shoes  with  red 
rosettes. 

Father  and  mother  cast  many  looks  at  the  simple  array  after 
the  destined  wearer  was  in  bed. 

"  I  have  been  told  that  I  dressed  her  too  fine  for  the  child  of 
poor  parents,"  remarked  Bessy ;  "  but  the  materials  of  her 
clothes  are  not  more  expensive  than  those  which  other  people,  ns 
better  off  than  we  are,  put  on  their  children.  It  is  the  bright 


NEMESIS.  49 

colors,  and  the  way  they  are  made,  I  suppose,  that  sets  tongnes 
going  about  her." 

"It  is  because  the  mother  has  the  taste  to  see  what  becouio 
her  child  ;  for  my  part,  I  like  to  see  her  look  her  prettiest,  the 
little  beauty  !  She  will  be  almost  as  handsome  as  her  mother,  by 
the  time  she  is  grown.  If  I  live  a  dozen  years  longer,  you  shall 
have  the  means  to  dress  her  as  you  please,  and  nobody  will  find 
fault  with  your  extravagance." 

With  the  earliest  sunbeam  that  peeped  in  at  the  window, 
Kitty  was  astir.  Her  parents  had  stolen  out  noiselessly,  while  she 
prolonged  her  morning's  nap,  the  more  profound,  on  account  of 
aer  excited  wakefulness  during  the  early  part  of  the  night. 
There  was  a  great  fire  in  the  outer  room — a  Christmas  blaze, 
that  stained  redly  the  log  walls  and  the  beams  overhead,  and 
found  laughing  reflections  of  itself  iu  the  pewter  basins  and 
platters  on  the  shelves.  Mark  was  winding  ep  the  clock,  and 
Bessy  laying  the  cloth  for  breakfast,  when  the  chamber-door 
creaked,  arid  a  diminutive  white  figure  entered,  holding  her  night- 
dress across  her  bosom  with  one  hand,  while  the  other  pushed 
back  the  curls  that  were  falling  over  her  forehead  and  eyes.  The 
bare,  plump  feet  made  directly  for  the  treasure  by  the  mantel- 
shelf, and  her  father  took  it  down  from  its  high  nail  and  gave  it 
to  her,  with  a  kiss.  Not  a  syllable  did  she  utter  then,  but  sitting 
down  on  her  stool  in  the  glare  of  the  blazing  logs,  she  emptied 
the  contents  into  her  lap,  speechless  and  breathless  with  expect- 
ancy and  delight. 

Uppermost  was  a  suit  of  clothes  for  her  doll,  manufactured  by 
the  mother,  in  the  evenings,  when  the  day's  labor  was  over.  It 
was  a  thorough  outfit,  not  forgetting  a  pair  of  blue  satin  shoes 
that  just  fitted  the  feet  of  the  clumsy  pet,  whose  mistress  con- 
sidered her  a  faultless  model  of  the  human  form  divine.  The 
next  parcel  was  wedged  in  the  ankle  of  the  stocking,  and  Kitty's 
tingers  trembled  with  cold  and  impatience  before  she  extricated 

3 


50  NEMESIS. 

it.  Here  was  an  important  addition  to  her  household,  a  second, 
and  smaller  dolly,  carved  like  its  senior,  out  of  soft  wood,  and 
painted — but  wonder  of  wonders  !  with  joints  at  its  knees  and 
elbows  1 

"  Mamma  1  Papa  1"  screamed  the  agitated  child,  strewing 
everything  else  upon  the  floor,  as  she  ran  to  them  ;  "  see  what 
a  beautiful  "-^-tears  of  ecstasy  choked  her. 

The  rude  wooden  image,  which  was,  however,  fully  as  graceful 
in  figure  and  artistic  in  finish,  as  the  pattern  after  which  it  was 
fashioned,  was  Mark's  handiwork.  With  a  deal  of  pains  he  had 
whittled,  and  polished,  and  colored  it,  for  toy-shops  were  rarities 
then  ami  there ;  and  had  they  been  abundant,  Mark's  shillings 
were  scarce.  What  mattered  a  deficency  that  was  n'fever  felt  ? 
Little  Kitty  was  enraptured  beyond  expression,  and  bon-bons 
and  playthings,  elegant  in  conception  and  workmanship  could  not 
have  added  a  drop  to  the  overflowing  cup.  Even  the  recollection 
of  the  promised  visit  was  dim  hi  comparison  with  the  possession 
of  her  treasure,  and-  the  only  cloud  that  crossed  her  face  that 
morning,  was  when  she  asked,  anxiously  hugging  her  baby  to  her 
heart : 

"  Please,  mamma,  may  I  take  dolly,  too  ?  I  guess  she's  afraid 
to  stay  at  home,  without  me." 

This  consideration  was  disregarded  in  the  case  of  the  elder  doll, 
who  was  comfortably  ensconced  in  bed,  with  many  injunctions  to 
be  "  a  good  girl,  and  not  cry  until  her  Kitty  came  back." 

Bessy  was  mistress  of  a  silk  robe,  inherited  from  her  mother, 
not  purchased  in  her  lifetime  ;  but  extraordinary  indeed  must 
have  been  the  occasion  that  warranted  her  in  putting  it  on.  For 
a  Christmas  dinner,  even  at  the  "  great  house,"  she  wisely  selected 
her  best  winter  dress.  It  was  of  green  stuff,  trimmed  with  black, 
and  the  color,  so  trying  to  most  complexions,  made  the  pure 
white  and  red  of  her  skin  seem  fairer  and  fresher.  Beneath  the 
short  sleeve  was  an  exquisitely  crimped  ruffle  of  worked  linen, 


W  K  M  H  8  I  8.  ft) 

descending  below  the  elbow.  Rich  ladies  wore  these  of  lace,  and 
paltry  imitations  could  be  procured  from  every  packman  and 
peddler,  but  our  Bessy's  taste  was  too  just  to  suffer  her  to  avail 
herself  of  the  cheap  substitute.  Her  inside  kerchief  was  also  of 
linen,  less  fine,  but  as  neatly  gotten  up  ;  to  protect, her  arms,  she 
drew  on  linen  gloves  of  her  own  fitting  and  stitching,  and  the 
fairy  foot,  of  which  Mark  had  nearly  made  her  vain,  looked 
smaller  than  ever,  in  a  pair  of  green  morocco  shoes,  with  enor- 
mous black  rosettes,  to  match  her  dress. 

Mark  was  not  far  wrong  when  he  said,  what  he  believed — that 
the  Christmas  sun  shone  on  no  more  beautiful  mother  and 
daughter,  in  all  the  broad  laud.  And  certainly  he  did  not  look 
an  unfit  gallant  for  the  twain,  as  he  stepped  up  to  offer  his  arm 
to  his  wife — attired  in  a  suit  of  dark  blue,  with  a  white  neckcloth, 
and  a  frilled  shirt-front,  plaited  with  Bessy's  inimitable  skill.  In 
this  style,  they  set  out,  punctually  at  ten  o'clock,  Kitty  carrying 
her  doll,  carefully  enveloped  in  flannel,  to  shield  its  tender  form 
from  the  biting  outer  air. 


62  NEMESIS 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  GI.AD  to  see  you;  walk  in!"  said  Miss  Barbara,  meeting  the 
Hale  family  at  the  door.  "  How  dy'e,  Pussy  ?  That's  what  they 
/•All  you,  ain't  it  ?" 

41  My  name  is  Kitty,"  answered  the  child,  wonderingly. 

"  And  don't  Kitty  and  Pussy  mean  the  same  thing  ?  Let  ma 
take  off  your  cloak  and  hood.  Well,  you  are  pretty  as  a  picter, 
and  no  mistake  about  it!  Where  did  you  steal  your  roses 
from  ?" 

Won  by  the  innocent  beauty  of  the  little  face  she  held  up  to 
the  light,  she  stooped  to  kiss  it,  forgetful  of  her  professed  dislike 
of  "  babies."  Bessy  remarked  the  stolen  caress,  with  a  sly  smile 
at  Mark,  and  both  felt  more  at  home  because  of  it. 

They  were  received  in  Miss  Brook's  own  apartment,  the  same 
in  which  Bessy  had  first  been  introduced  to  her  notice.  The  fur- 
niture was  very  plain  ;  rush-bottomed  chairs  and  deal  tables,  and 
cupboards,  some  with  glass  doors,  some  without,  in  every  corner. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  a  rag  carpet,  woven  in  the  loom,  that 
was  a  fixture  in  the  back  part  of  the  room ;  but  the  spinning 
wheel  had  been  removed  ;  the  cleanest  of  always  clean  white 
curtains  put  up  at  the  four  windows,  and  the  chairs  arranged 
cozily  around  the  fire. 

Miss  Barbara  still  wore  her  thimble — it  was  affirmed  that  she 
ilc.pt  in  it — but  all  else  about  her  had  the  true  holiday  look.  On 
working-days,  her  hair,  which  was  profusely  streaked  with  grey, 
was  uncovered  and  "  done  up  "  in  the  tightest  possible  knot  al 


NEMESIS.  53 

the  top  of  her  head.  To-day,  a  neat  cap,  trimmed  with  purple 
ribbons,  concealed  this  fantastic  mode  of  coiffure,  and  softened 
the  angular  outlines  of  her  square  forehead  and  chin.  Her 
bombazet  frock  was  snuff-colored  and  less  outre*  in  fashion  than 
her  ordinary  home  dress. 

"  Your  wife  tells  me  you're  a  member,"  she  bioke  out,  after 
scrutinizing  Mark  through  her  spectacles  for  some  minutes  iu 
profound  silence. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  he  replied,  unable  to  resist  the  inclination  to 
smile  at  the  unlooked-for  observation. 

"  Religion's  a  great  thing,  sir  1" 

"  I  think  so,  madam." 

"You'll  find  but  few  of  your  way  of  thinking  about  here. 
You  know  there  isn't  a  church  within  ten  miles,  except  old  Deep 
Run  meetin'-house,  where  nobody  preaches  twice  a-year,  anc 
when  they  do,  it's  a  circus  rider,  as  they  call  'em,  or  some  of  the 
ministers,  on  their  way  home  from  Presbytery.  I'm  a  Pre& 
byterian  myself.  I  was  brought  up  in  Hanover,  and  jined  the 
old  church — where  Samuel  Davis  used  to  preach — before  I  waa 
twenty.  He  was  a  lion  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord.  MJ* 
mother  knew  him  well.  Maybe  you've  heard  tell  of  him  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam.     I  have  a  volume  of  his  sermons." 

"  Yon  -don't  say  so  !  Now — isn't  that  wonderful  ?  Well,  as 
I  was  saying — I  come  to  this  heathen  country  with  Mrs.  Argyle, 
when  she  was  married.  A  saint  upon  earth  she  was,  and  I'm  sure 
she's  now  an  angel  in  heaven.  She  never  rested  until  she  got 
Deep  Run  built,  and  for  a  while  Presbyterians  and  Episcopals 
preached  in  it,  turn  about,  once  a  month ;  but  she  died,  and  there 
was  the  end  of  that !  She  took  a  heap  of  pains  teachin'  the 
negroes,  and  I  can  see  some  signs  of  her  work  left;  but  there's  a 
mighty  back-slidin'  among  'em.  I  read  to  'em  Sundays,  and  heal 
the  catechism  regular,  but  'tisn't  the  mistress'  doings,  and  they 
feel  the  difference." 


f 


54  NEMESIS. 

"  Mr.  Argyle  is  not  a  professor,  then  ?" 

"  .Not  he  1"  She  checked  herself,  and  went  on  in  a  different 
tone.  "  He  doesnrt  interfere,  and  he  likes  to  talk  about  the 
'Established  Church  of  Scotland,'  and  his  forefathers  sticking 
go  fast  to  the  Protestant  faith,  "with  the  ministers  that  stop  here 
overnight.  You  see,  they  got  into  the  habit  of  it  when  Mrs, 
Argyle  was  alive,  and  I'm  sure  they're  always  more  than  wel- 
come. But  it's  easier  to  do  like  your  neighbors,  and  let  things 
take  their  course,  than  to  make  a  stand  against  iniquity,  and  try 
to  turn  people  out  of  the  broad,  into  the  narrow  way." 

"Mr.  Sancroft  had  religious  training,  I  suppose,"  said  Mark, 
"  The  Connecticut  people  are  great  church-goers." 

"  More  shame  to  him  for  being  such  a  reprobate  !"  cried  Miss 
Barbara,  warmly.  "  A  more  godless,  money-worshipping  fox  you 
won't  find  this  side  of  the  place  he  came  from.  Beg  your  par- 
don if  you're  affronted  !  but  you  do  send  some  plagued  pool 
sticks  down  South,  and  he  isn't  one  of  the  best  kind." 

"  We  did  not  come  from  the  same  State,"  said  Mark,  good- 
humoredly.  "  I  arn  a  native  of  Massachusetts." 

"  Bunker  Hill  is  in  that,  ain't  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  I've  heard  tell  of  it  often.  I  had  a  brother  badly  wounded 
at  the  battle  of  Monmouth." 

She  spoke  as  though  they  were  adjacent  townships,  and  Mark 
did  not  feel  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  set  her  right. 

"  I  ought  not  to  feel,  nor  to  talk  about  Mr.  Sancroft  as  I  do," 
she  said,  presently.  "  The  fact  is,  I  can't  bear  the  m'an,  &nd  so  I 
suspicion  everything  he  says  and  does.  If  I  am  wrong,  and 
sometimes  don't  give  him  his  due,  I  hope  the  Lord  will  forgive 
me."  Her  penitent  tone  was  suddenly  dropped.  "  Mr.  Argyle 
thinks  that  he  is  the  salvation  of  the  plantation,  when  he  is 
away,  and  poor  Frisbie,  a  smart,  managing,  workin'  fellow  as 
ever  lived,  gits  not  a  mite  of  praise  along  with  his  overseers 


NEMESIS.  5fi 

g.  I  promise  you,  Bancroft  hears  a  piece  of  my  mind — 
some  pretty  plain  conversation — when  he  pokes  his  meddlin'  eye 
brows  into  my  part  of  the  house.  If  'twasn't  for  the  children — 1 
promised  their  mother  on  her  death-bed  I'd  never  leave — Mr. 
4rgyle  would  have  had  to  look  out  for  another  housekeeper  the 
Jay  after  he  engaged  that  slab-sided  Yankee  to  stand  master  fo- 
us  all.  The  fire  burn*  your  face  there,  honey  !  Let  me  set  youi 
cheer  in  the  corner." 

She  picked  up  Kitty,  chair,  doll  and  all,  to  remove  her  to  a 
more  sheltered  position,  and  in  a  moment  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
that  Mr.  Sancroft  was  in  existence. 

Dinner  was  served  at  twelve  o'clock.  Miss  Barbara  made  no 
pretensions  to  "quality"  hours  or  fashions.  An  independent, 
free-born  woman,  she  respected  herself  and  the  station  allotted  to 
her  by  Providence  too  truly,  to  degrade  either  by  servile  imita- 
tions of  those,  who,  in  the  same  providence,  were  appointed  to  a 
higher  rank,  as  far  as  outward  appearances  went.  There  were 
stores  of  china,  silver  and  damask  in  the  house,  and  she  had  the 
keys  to  every  room  and  chest.  Three  thousand  miles  intervened 
between  Ben  Loriiond  and  its  proprietor,  and  there  were  no  spies 
in  the  camp  ;  yet  the  table  was  spread  with  home-made  h'nen, 
coarse  but  glossy  ;  pewter  spoons  and  crockery,  blue  and  white, 
Df  the  everlasting  Chinese  willow  pattern. 

That  old  willow  pattern  !  Who  that  thinks  of  it  fails  to 
ecall,  its  stiff  plume-like  trees,  its  bridges  and  summer-houses, 
its  boats  in  the  air,  its  hump-backed  human  (?)  figures — and 
to  whom,  with  the  sight  of  these,  come  not  visions  of  country 
dining-rooms ;  the  smell  of  clover-hay  floating  in  at  the  windows, 
and  mingling  with  the  enchanting  fragrance  of  a  rural  repast  ? 
Who  does  not  remember  the  yellow  butter,  dewy  and  cool  from 
the  ice  or  spring-house — the  tumbler  of  cream,  almost  as  rich — the 
naky  biscuit — the  amber  honey — the  batter-cakes  and  the  fried 
chicken — the  shade-trees,  locusts  and  aspens — joining  their  whi» 


66  NEMESIS. 

Ders  to  the  reverent  tones,  that  asked  a  blessing  upon  bounties 
received  ;  the  cordial,  hearty  voices  that  pressed  the  guest  to 
eat,  until  "  tired  nature  could  no  more  ?" 

The  unfortunate  reader,  who  knows  nothing  experimentally  of 
this,  who  has  felt  no  sympathetic  watering  of  the  mouth,  or  eyea, 
in  perusing  the  above,  is  hereby  assured,  for  his  comfort,  that  he 
may  enjoy  the  luxury  of  a  new  sensation  by  travelling  in  a 
stage  or  private  carriage,  not  by  rail,  forty  miles  back  into  the 
country. 

Miss  Barbara's  Christmas  turkey  had  half  an  inch  of  fat  upon 
its  breast,  and  a  necklace  of  sausages,  and  was  kept  in  coun- 
tenance at  the  other  end  of  the  table  by  the  most  crisp  of  roast 
pigs  that  was  ever  replete  with  sage  stuffing  and  dripped  witb 
gravy.  Between  these  was  a  double  line  of  communication,  com- 
posed of  potatoes,  Irish  and  sweet,  parsnips,  turnips,  bacon  and 
cabbage,  sausage,  spare  rib,  souse,  bread,  butter,  and  pickles, 
yellow,  green  and  sweet. 

"  Oh  !"  ejaculated  Kitty,  as  she  was  lifted  into  her  chair. 

Her  mother's  hand  was  laid  warningly  upon  her  head,  but  Miss 
Barbara  smiled  complacently  at  the  artless  and  involuntary  com- 
pliment to  her  culinary  exploits,  and  requested  "  Mr.  Hale  "  to 
"  ask  a  blessing." 

Tony  and  Suke,  in  whole  aprons  and  shining  faces,  waited  upon 
the  table,  an  honor  altogether  unusual  to  our  northern  friends, 
but  they  were  too  well  bred  to  let  this  appear.  Kitty's  plate  was 
nearest  to  the  head  of  the  board,  and  was  consequently  piled 
until  the  prudent  mother  ventured  to  remonstrate. 

"  It's  plain,  wholesome  food  t"  said  Miss  Barbara.  "  When 
the  dessert  comes  on,  you  can  give  her  what  you  please  ;  but 
bread  and  meat  never  hurt  anything  or  anybody." 

Tony's  longing  eyes  and  smacking  mouth  were,  just  then, 
slo'quent  of  noble  ambition  to  offer  himself  a  sacrifice  to  establish 
the  truth  of  this  principle.  The  current  of  his  desires  was 


NEMESIS.  5 

diverted  by  a  tread  in  the  porch  without,  and,  as  he  had  done  at 
Bessy's  first  call,  he  let  fall  everything  in  his  hands,  whicb 
happened,  fortunately,  to  be  nothing  but  a  japanned  waiter;  and 
with  his  "somebody  comin'  1"  sprang  at  the  door-latch.  It  was 
raised  from  without  as  he  touched  it,  and  the  door  flew  open  with 
an  impetus  that  knocked  him  back  against  Sake,  who,  also  losing 
her  balance,  rolled  with  him,  clutching  and  shrieking,  on  the 
floor. 

A  hearty,  boyish  "  ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  mounted  high  above  their 
screeches  and  Miss  Barbara's  exclamation.  Mark  and  Bessy  arose 
to  their  feet,  as  she  started  forward,  upsetting  her  chair  and 
plate. 

"  Malcolm  Argyle  !     Is  it  yon,  or  your  ghost  ?" 

"  That  is  like  flesh  and  blood,  is  it  not  ?"  was  the  reply,  as  he 
kissed  her  cheek,  and  gave  her  ribs  a  hug,  that  nearly  drove  from 
her  body  the  scanty  breath  astonishment  had  spared  to  her. 
"  What  do  you  say  now,  Aunt  Bab  ?"  continued  the  intruder, 
laughing  at  her  contortions,  as  he  released  her. 

"  I  say  you  are  no  better  than  you  used  to  be — the  worst  boj 
that  ever  went  unflogged  1"  Miss  Barbara  sobbed  betwixt  laugh- 
ing, crying  and  want  of  wind.  "  Where  did  you  come  from,  and 
what  brought  you  here  ?" 

"  I  came  straight  from  college,  to  eat  my  Christmas  dinner  with 
you.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  have  not  waited  for  me,  however. 
Just  let  me  step  into  your  room  and  wash  my  hands,  and  I  am 
ready — that  is,  when  you  have  made  me  acquainted  with  the  rest 
of  your  company  " — bowing  with  frank  grace  to  the  Hales. 

Miss  Barbara  introduced  them  formally,  and  then  bidding  them 
'•  Be  seated  and  excuse  all  this  rumpus  !"  she  followed  Malcolm 
into  the  adjoining  chamber,  "  to  see  that  he  had  soap  and  water," 
.and  to  supply  further  infornation  concerning  her  new  acquaint- 
ances. The  communication  was  short ;  for  she  was  back  in  hei 
seat  before  her  visitors  had  begun  to  feel  awkward,  and  by  tlii* 
/  3* 


58  N£ME8I8. 

time,  was  so  far  restored  to  her  senses  as  to  scold  vigorously  at 
Tony  and  Suke,  for  their  "  want  of  manners.'1 

"  Why,  anybody  would  think  you  never  saw  a  white  man 
before,  let  alone  your  Master  Malcolm  I  A  fine  notion  he  will 
get  of  your  raising  1" 

"  'Most  broke  my  head  I"  muttered  the  ingenious  Tony,  rub- 
bing the  assaulted  part,  as  his  young  master  reentered. 

"Bah  !  Tony,  my  boy  I  if  your  head  was  struck,  there  is  no 
damage  done.  Say  your  shin,  now,  and  there  is  a  plaster  to  heal 
the  bruise  ;"  dropping  a  coin  into  his  hand. 

"  Meant  to  say  shin,  marster  1"  grinned  the  saucy  boy.  "  Thanky 
for  Christmas  gift  1" 

The  heir  apparent  of  Ben  Lomond  was  a  handsome  youth  of 
about  seventeen,  agile  and  tall  in  figure,  manly  and  engaging  in 
demeanor.  To-day,  he  appeared  to  enjoy  but  one  thing  more 
than  the  abundance  of  edibles,  t.ct  in  array  before  him,  and  that 
was  teasing  Miss  Barbara,  whom  he  invariably  addressed  as 
"  Aunt  Bab."  Her  curiosity  was  wound  up  to  the  highest  pitch 
to  ascertain  the  cause  of  his  unexpected  visit  home,  during  the 
college  term,  and  while  his  father  and  sisters  were  absent ;  but  her 
questionings  were  plied  with  no  other  effect  than  to  incite  him 
to  evasions  and  ridiculous  fabrications,  until  the  plum-pudding 
and  mince-pie  disappeared  from  his  plate.  Then  he  declared  him- 
self vanquished  by  a  liberal  draught  of  domestic  liqueur  that 
»ccompauied  the  dessert,  and  which  he  protested  would  open 
the  mouth  and  heart  of  an  oyster. 

"  In  vino  veritas,  Aunt  Bab,"  he  said,  leaning  forward  upon  the 
table,  and  affecting  to  look  through  his  glass  with  one  eye.  "  That 
means,  when  wine  goes  in,  troth  pops  out  I  Father  is  comiug 
borne  1" 

"  You  don't  say  so  !     When  ?" 

"  If  yon  will  interrupt  me,  you  must  take  the  consequences," 
ffas  the  provoking  rejoinder.  "  I  must  have  another  bmnpci  to 


NEMESIS.  58 

do  away  with  the  effect  of  that  obstruction  to  my  cominui  icative 
mood." 

He  sipped  it  very  slowly. 

"  Yes  !  he  writes  that  he  will  stop  in  New  York,  to  pick  up 
his  lovely  and  accomplished  daughters,  and  proceed  leisurely  to 
his  patrimonial  and  baronial  castle  of  Ben  Lomond  " — 

Another  and  a  prolonged  sip,  with  his  eyes  fixed  meditatively 
upon  the  angle  formed  by  the  opposite  wall  and  the  ceiling. 

"  But  when — for  goodness,  sake  1"  Miss  Barbara  bounced  up 
as  if  her  chair  were  set  with  needles. 

"  There !  you've  done  it  again  !  If  I  get  drunk,  it  will  be  youi 
fault,  mind  that !  I  must  wet  the  thread  of  my  discourse  every 
time  it  has  to  be  joined,  you  know.  That  bottle,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Hale,"  in  a  tone  of  resigned  melancholy. 

Miss  Barbara  snatched  at  it  ;  but  he  was  too  quick  for  her, 
and  securing  likewise  a  flask  of  cherry  cordial,  he  held  one  in  the 
embrace  of  each  arm. 

"  '  Now  am  I  doubly  armed  I'  As  it  is  you,  Aunt  Bab,  and 
your  discretion  is  as  famous  as  your  want  of  curiosity;  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  that  the  orders  of  my  revered  paternal  pro- 
genitor are,  that  all  shall  be  in  readiness  to  receive  him  and  his 
fair  daughters  twain,  by  the  middle  or  latter  part  of  March  ; 
which  orders  I  thought  best  to  deliver  in  person.  And  as  I  had 
to  pass  directly  by  Mr.  Bancroft's,  on  iny  way  home — Mrs.  Hale, 
allow  me  the  pleasure  of  replenishing  your  glass — Miss  Brook  ia 
celebrated  for  the  excellence  of  her  beverages." 

"  Of  course  you  stopped  and  told  him  ?"  said  Miss  Barbara, 
with  forced  composure.  ".Ah,  well  1  who  had  a  better  right  to 
hear  the  news  first,  than  your  father's  agent  ?" 

"  Why,  yourself,  to  be  sure  I  At  least,  so  it  seemed  to  me  ; 
10  I  did  not  even  look  that  way,  as  I  rode  by  the  gate." 

Miss  Barbara  smiled,  in  spite  of  herself.  "  I  wonder  if  you'll 
ever  sow  your  wild  oats  !  Mighty  little  chance  of  it,  that  I 


60  NEMESIS. 

see.      1  s'pose  you'd  like  to  hear  how  the  ntignbors  are  get 
ting  on  ?" 

"  I  have  been  dying  for  the  last  hour,  for  want  cf  the  informa- 
tion." 

"  More  likely,  dyin'  for  the  want  of  your  dinner.  Well,  there'i 
the  Seldens — they're  all  well." 

"  That  is  very  gratifying,"  interposed  Malcolm,  gravely. 

"And  Marcia  is  growin'  prettier  every  day,"  pursued  Miss 
Barbara,  with  a  meaning  look,  that  had  its  effect  hi  the  boy'a 
heightened  color.  "  I  am  s'prised  you  could  get  by  that  gate." 

"  When  you  were  this  side  of  it  1  Fie,  Aunt  Bab  1  Yon 
don't  give  me  credit  for  natural  affection." 

"  Natural  affection  ain't  worth  much,  when  there's  another  sort 
of  love  in  the  way,"  returned  she,  unsparingly.  "  What  else 
hindered  you  from  going  in  ?  I  don't  understand  it." 

"  Why,  to  be  honest  with  you,  I  met  them  all — a  carriage-load 
— three  miles  further  on,  going  out  to  dinner  at  Mr.  Armistead's, 
and,  as  I  had  no  invitation,  and  had  on  my  traTelling-gear,  I  con- 
cluded to  continue  my  journey." 

Laughing  heartily  at  the  manifest  discomfiture  of  his  oppo- 
nent at  this  reply,  he  arose  from  the  table,  and  invited  Mark 
to  visit  the  stables  and  negro  quarters  with  him.  The  request 
was  couched  in  courteous  terms,  and  his  bearing  was  precisely 
that  of  one  gentleman  toward  another.  The  Chief  Magistrate 
of  the  Union  could  not  have  been  treated  with  more  civility  than 
was  displayed  by  this  son  of  a  haughty  stock,  to  the  mechanic, 
whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  at  his  housekeeper's  table. 

"  What  a  charming  young  gentleman  1"  excla'aned  Bessy,  an 
the  two  left  the  room. 

"  The  flower  of  the  flock  1"  assented  Miss  Barbara.  "  He7! 
always  just  so  ;  I've  held  him  on  my  kneCj  a  thousand  times,  when 
he  was  a  baby,  and  he's  never  in  his  life, .  to  my  kriowin',  done  au 
unkind  or  a  mean  thing." 


NEMESIS.  91 

41  He  is  very  handsome,"  said  Bessy. 

'  He's  the  image  of  his  mother.  You  coultln't  say  more  for 
him.  Run  around  the  room,  Mousey,  and  jolt  your  dinner  down. 
Tsiu't  healthy  to  sit  still  directly  after  eating." 

"  I'm  not  a  Mousey  j  I  be  a  Kitty,"  chuckled  the  child,  whose 
shyness  had  worn  off. 

"  Then,  here's  a  cousin  for  you  to  play  with,"  said  the  house 
keeper,  returning  from  the  inner  room,  with  a  pretty  tortoise-shell 
fcitien.  "  You  can  bundle  it  up  in  the  blanket  with  your  dolly, 
and  take  it  home,  when  you  go.  I've  no  use  for  it,  if  I  am  an 
old  maid.  There's  but  one  thing  in  nature  more  troublesome 
than  a  cat,  and  that's  a  baby.  What  would  I  do  with  a  hus- 
band, always  under-foot,  and  a  dozen  squalling  brats  beside  7 
I'm  obliged  to  you  I"  continued  the  contented  spinster,  nodding  to 
a  visionary  would-be  donor  of  said  commodities,  whom  she 
appeared  to  see  in  the  curls  of  blue  smoke  ascending  from  the 
pipe  she  was  lighting.  "  I'm  obliged  to  you,  but  I'd  as  lief  not  !" 

The  two  Kitties  were  in  the  height  of  a  game  of  romps,  which 
Miss  Barbara  prohibited  Bessy  from  interrupting,  when  Mark 
and  young  Argyle  came  in.  And  now  the  latter  perfected  his 
conquest  of  both  parents,  by  joining  in  the  frolic,  with  as  much 
zest  as  was  exhibited  by  the  child  and  her  four-footed  playmate 
He  leaped  tables  and  chairs  ;  turned  corners,  and  doubled  on  his 
track,  in  a  style  that  excited  Kitty's  intense  admiration.  Her 
gleeful  laugh  kept  time  to  the  patter  of  her  feet  hi  the  chase, 
and  when  at  last,  Malcolm  seized  her  and  swung  her  up  to  his 
ghoulder,  she  forgot  that  he  was  a  stranger,  and  a  grown  man, 
and  clapped  her  hands  in  an  outburst  of  delight.  At  that  instant, 
ids  knock  having  been  drowned  by  the  noise  within,  Mr.  Bancroft 
walked  in  Miss  Barbara  grew  straight  and  stiff  as  her  own 
pipe-stem.  Bessy  looked  embarrassed,  and  Mark  surprised  ;  but 
the  unabashed  stripling  stepped  forward,  without  lowering  Kittj 
from  her  elevated  se.it  : 


62  K  E  M  E  S  1  8  . 

"  How  Jo  you  do,  Mr.  Sancroft  ?  This  is  an  unexpected 
pleasure  ;  but  I  beg  you  to  consider  yourself  as  welcome  as  if  yon 
had  been  particularly  invited." 

The  parchment  cheek  of  the  agent  showed  a  faint  glow  of  cou 
fusion  or  displeasure  ;  but  his  manner  was  unaltered  by  the  equi 
vocal  nature  of  his  "  welcome." 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Argyle  ?  I  hope  you  find  yourself  well, 
wr.  I  made  so  bold  as  to  present  myself  here,  this  afternoon, 
quite  uninvited,  as  you  remark,  my  dear  sir,  in  consequence  of  a 
rumor  of  your  arriva!  which  reached  me." 

"Are  yot  acquainted  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hale?"  interrupted 
Malcolm,  ceremoniously. 

"  I  am,  sir.  Ycry  happy  to  see  you  both  under  such  favorable 
auspices.  Business  and  health  good,  I  trust,  Mr.  Hale  ?  You 
and  Miss  Brook  are  bosom  friends  by  this  time,  I  presume,  Mrs. 
Hale  ?  You  have  a  very  select  and  agreeable  family  gathering 
here,  to-day — Miss  Barbara — hey  ?" 

"  We  had  !"  said  Miss  Barbara,  shortly  and  significantly. 

Malcolm  still  walked  the  room,  carrying  Kitty  with  as  much 
ease  as  though  she  had  been  a  tame  squirrel. 

"  Miss  Hale  is  highly  honored  !"  remarked  Mr.  Sancroft. 
'•  Rather  a  tall  sweetheart,  is  he  not,  Missy  ?  When  did  yoo 
hear  from  your  respected  father,  Mr.  Argyle  ?  My  latest  advices 
report  him  well  and  happy  amid  the  scenes  of  his  childhood's 
Bports.  I  fancy  he  will  not  be  in  haste  to  return  to  this  country 
—hey  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  writes  to  me  that  we  may  expect  him  in 
March.  Are  you  growing  dizzy  up  there,  my  little  lady  ?" 

"  She  is  quite  too  heavy  for  you,  Mr.  Argyle,"  said  Mark, 
advancing.  "  Let  me  relieve  you." 

"  She  is  as  light  as  a  feather,  sir,  but  she  is  getting  uneasy,  i 
think  she  will  feel  more  comfortable,  and,  at  any  rate,  safer,  on 
the  floor  She  is  your  only  child  ?" 


NEMESIS.  63 

'  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  a  dear  gipsy  it  is  !"  said  Malcolm,  trailing  at  her 
gambols  with  the  kitten,  that  sprang  upon  her,  as  toon  as  ehe  wa& 
Tvl.-us,  d.  "I  love  children — particularly  little  girls.  What  were 
you  saying,  Mr.  Bancroft  ?" 

"  I  had  no  intention  of  interrupting  your  conversation,  Mr. 
Argyle.  I  ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Hale,  for  iny  apparent  rudeness  ; 
but  you  will  own  that  it  is  natural  for  my  interest  to  be  excited  by 
the  aews  Mr4  Argyle  has  communicated.  Your  father  will  return 
in  March,  my  dear  young  gentleman  ?  Did  I  hear  you  aright  ? 
What  has  induced  this  sudden  resolution  ?  I  am  really  amazed. 
Nothing  of  an  unpleasant  nature  has  transpired,  I  trust,  Mr. 
Argyle  ?  And  he  was  positive— explicit — emphatic  in  the  decla- 
ratioL  of  this  design  ?  It  was  not  a  hint  merely — not  stated  as  a 
probability — hey  ?" 

"  I  ihiiik  it  was,  sir.  All  future  events  must  be  considered  as 
probabilities,  not  certainties.  But  why  not  be  seated,  Mr.  San- 
croft  ?  Let  me  insist  that  you  make  yourself  at  home.  Allow 
me  to  order  a  glass  of  wine — that  is,  with  Miss  Barbara's  per- 
mission." 

The  cool  condescension  of  the  lad  was  so  great  a  contrast  to  his 
ordinary  manner,  and  so  remarkable,  when  exercised  by  one  of  bis 
years,  toward  a  man  of  more  than  double  his  age,  that  the  Hales 
looked  on  in  silent  amazement.  Miss  Barbara's  visage  had  a  griin 
.satisfaction  in  its  square  lines,  that  proved  her  relish  of  the  scene, 
To  Malcolm's  deferential  appeal  she  only  said  : 

"  Help  yourself !"  and  puffed  away  at  her  pipe 

The  agent  waved  his  hand,  in  deprecation  of  the  civility,  or  the 
delay  of  his  employer's  sou. 

"  I  thuuk  you,  Mr.  Argyle  !  I  thauk  you,  sir  !  I  have  not 
time  to  accept  of  your  hospitalities.  And  now,  that  I  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  yon  so  well,  Mr  Argyle,  and  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  such  congenial  society  " — the  eyebrows  severely  ironical 


64  NEMESIS. 

then  settling  into  placidity — "  I  will  not  intrude  farther,  will  nc 
longer  debar  you  from  your  sports.  With  regard  to  youl 
respected  father's  movements,  I  presume  I  shall  shortly  be  hon- 
ored with  his  commands,  as  I  am  iu  daily  expectation  of  a  letter 
We  have  all  abundant  cause  for  congratulation  in  the  prospect — • 
however  uncertain — of  his  speedy  return.  With  due  humility,  I 
may  say  that  I  experience  nothing  but  agreeable  emotion  at  the 
thought  of  accounting  for,  and  resigning  the  responsible  ste\*  ard« 
ship  he  honored  me  by  committing  to  my  charge.  Let  him  come 
in  the  finet,  or  third,  or  fourth  watch,  he  will  find  me  ready  10 
render  my  reckoning — hey,  Miss  Brook  ?" 

Miss  Barbara's  jaws  unclosed  for  a  reply,  but  Malcolm  interposed. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  have  adde<£a  knowledge  of  scrip- 
ture to  your  other  and  varied  acquirements,  since  we  parted,"  nt 
said.  "I  hope  your  studies  have  been  attended  with  profit- -a 
wish,  that,  I  am  sure,  will  be  echoed  by  the  rest  of  your  acquaint- 
ance. What  do  you  think  of  the  prospect  for  a  continuance  of 
this  fine  weather,  sir  ?  Cannot  you  be  prevailed  upon  to  grace 
our  company  for  a  little  while  longer  ?" 

"  I  must  be  going,  Mr.  Argyle,"  answered  the  agent,  with 
some  stiffness.  "  A  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year  to 
you  all  1" 

Malcolm  attended  him  to  the  porch. 

"  May  I  burden  you  with  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Bancroft 
and  the  young  ladies?"  he  begged,  with  the  stately  ccortesy  be 
had  preserved  throughout  the  interview.  "  I  have  but  a  couple 
of  days  to  spare  for  this  neighbornood,  or  I  might  do  myself  the 
pleasure  of  waiting  upon  them  in  person.  Good  day,  sir.  A 
pleasant  ride  to  you  I" 

He  shut  the  door  after  him,  and  throwing  himself  upon  a  settee, 
laughed  until  the  tears  hung  upon  his  eyelashes.  Mies  Barbara 
responded  with  a  dry  chuckle,  and  Mark  and  Bessj  could  not 
resist  the  contagion. 


NEMESIS  65 

"  Wish  yon  was  hire  to  deal  with  him  always  1"  grumbled 
Miss  Barbara.  "  A  sneaking  hypocrite,  with  his  Bible-quoting, 
through  his  nose  !  I'd  have  set  him  up  with  it,  if  you  hadn't 
hajre  spoken  up  so  quick." 

"  1  set  him  down,  Aunt  Bab,  whicu  was  far  better,"  said  the 
youth.  "  I  love  him  as  dearly  as  you  do,  and  can  manage  him 
a  hundred  tunes  better.  But  we  will  not  slander  our  neighbors. 
It  is  hard  to  tear  myself  away  from  so  much  of  real  home-comfurt; 
yet,  if  you  will  let  me  go  to  my  room,  I  will  get  ready  to  go  out 
for  a  visit.  I  promised  Mr.  Seldeu  that  I  would  stay*  with  him 
to-night." 

In  gratitude  for  his  defeat  of  her  enemy,  Miss  Barbara 
refrained  from  offering  comment  or  insinuation  at  this  confession, 
and  they  saw  no  more  of  him,  except  when  he  looked  in  to  kiss 
Kitty  "good  by,"  and  say  "good  evening"  to  the  rest. 

The  Hales  had  one  more  glimpse  of  him  during  his  hasty  visit 
On  the  morning  of  his  departure,  he  reined  up  his  horse  at  theii 
door,  and  expressed,  with  his  adieux,  a  friendly  wish  for  Mark's 
Buccess  in  his  enterprise.  It  was  said  sincerely,  with  no  sugges- 
tion of  patronage  which  he  might,  some  day,  render,  and  thia 
delicacy  was  appreciated  by  the  man,  whose  leathern  apron  was 
buckled  above  a  heart  as  generous,  a  soul  as  incapa)  le  of  fa]*' 
pride  or  sjcophancy  as  was  his  owa. 


66  NEMESIS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EARLY  in  March,  Miss  Barbara  enlisted  Bessy  in  her  service, 
for  the  purpose  of  "setting  the  house  to  rights,"  preparatory  to 
the  arrival  of  its  owners.  The  long  silent  and  darkened  rooms 
were  cleaned  and  flung  open,  and  the  scrubbing  and  whitewash 
brushes  were  ubiquitous.  Our  New  England  housewife  went 
through  the  engagement  with  flying  colors.  Miss  Barbara  com- 
plimented her  by  conferring  with  her  respecting  every  change  and 
movement,  and  the  not  more  decided  verbal  testimony,  that  she 
"  had  never  known  before  half  of  what  was  in  her." 
-  The  odd  old  maid  had  become  extremely  fond  of  her  proteges, 
and  although  she  occupied  a  subordinate  place  in  the  social 
sphere,  she  was  universally  respected,  and  her  opinion  held  in 
esteem  among  the  wealthy  families  around  about  Ben  Lomond, 
It  was  often  in  her  power  to  speak  a  word  for  Mark  and  his 
wife,  and  she  was  equally  careful  not  to  omit  an  opportunity  of 
doing  this,  and  to  guard  against  any  allusion  to  the  good  deed  iu 
their  hearing.  Mr.  Bancroft,  on  the  other  hand,  was  lavish  of 
patronizing  promises  and  intimations  of  what  he  had  done, 
whenever  he  chanced  to  meet  his  tenant,  until  Mark  believed 
much  of  the  gratitude  he  felt  for  the  steady  supply  of  work  thai 
began  to  flow  into  his  shop,  belonged,  of  right,  to  the  man  he 
was  so  frequently  tempted  to  distrust.  Even  Bessy  was  inwardly 
dubious  occasionally,  in  consequence  of  the  circumstantial  evidence 
that  disproved  the  justice  of  her  early  impression  concerning  the 
eyebrows  and  <=calp  ;  but  her  cogitations  invariably  concluded 


NKMESIS.  67 

with  a  wise  shake  of  the  head,  implying  a  resolve  to  adhere  to  Lei 
opinion,  and  still  suffer  Mark  to  think  as  well  as  he  could  of  one 
who  might  help  him,  and  who  could,  assuredly,  injure  him  if  he 
bad  the  will.  Every  now  and  then  a  trifle  aided  her  to  nail  fast 
this  determination.  Such  was  the. fulfillment  of  her  prophecy  in 
the  agent's  refusal  to  fence  in  their  garden,  until  his  employer's 
return. 

"  He  could  not  act  without  orders,"  he  represented,  "  aix) 
strange  to  say — in  consequence,  doubtless,  of  the^  multitude  of 
cares  attendant  upon  his  leaving  Scotland,  Mr.  Argyle  had 
omitted  to  instruct  him  on  this  point — when  he  had  written  so 
urgently,  with  regard  to  it,  too  1  It  was  too  bad — it  really  was  1 
Mr.  Argyle  was  a  very  particular,  methodical  man,  who  examined 
into  the  minutiaj  of  his  moneyed  interests  as  closely  as  if  he 
counted  his  pounds  by  tens,  instead  of  thousands.  But  he  will 
not  be  unreasonable,  Mr.  Hale  ;  and  I  shall  take  occasion, 
when  I  state  your  case,  to  set  forth  your  merits  as  a  tenant,  Mr, 
Hale,  and  the  manifest  advantage  of  retaining  you." 

Mark  yielded  the  point,  without  further  pressing,  and  went 
home,  to  advise  with  his  wife.  The  season  was  advancing,  and 
they  were  depending  for  their  summer,  and  part  of  their  winter 
provisions  upon  the  vegetables,  whose  seeds  were  not  yet  in  the 
ground.  By  dint  of  rigid  economy,  they  had  been  able  to  lay 
aside  a  small  sum  of  money,  with  a  prudential  eye  to  a  "  rainy 
day."  They  knew  but  too  well  the  exact  amount,  yet  it  was 
counted  over  and  over  again,  before  they  decided  to  devote  it  to 
the  exigencies  of  this  juncture. 

In  compliance  with  Bessy's  sagacious  counsel,  Mark  applied  to 
Mr.  Seldeu — with  whose  reputation,  as  a  kind-hearted  gentleman, 
Miss  Barbara  had  made  them  familiar — to  sell  and  deliver  to  him 
>  certain  number  of  rails.  The  good-natured  planter  readily  fur 
nished  them  at  a  price  that  barely  covered  the  expense  of  hewing 
them.  Struck  with  the  modest  and  manly  bearing  of  th* 


68  NEMESIS 

aochaiiic,  he  entered  into  conversation  witt  ,Jm,  and  presented 
to  him,  along  with  some  valuable  instruction  as  to  Virginia  soils 
and  their  cultivation,  a  package  of  seeds — enough,  Tith  those 
Miss  Barbara  had  already  given,  to  stock  their  garden. 

The  fence  arose,  as  if  by  magic,  for  the  single  laborer  toiled  la 
the  might  of  two  willing  hearts.  It  was  a  substantial  inclosure, 
very  different  from  the  neat  paling  that  bounded  the  garden  "  at 
home ;"  but  Mark  and  Bessy  asked  nothing  better,  and  when,  out 
of  the  refuse  rails,  there  was  constructed  the  wished-for  hen-house, 
a  couple  of  fine  hens  and  a  rooster  installed  therein,  Bessy  felt 
that  they  were  now  really  getting  along.  It  was  an  act  of 
genuine  benevolence  on  Mr.  Slocurn's  part,  Mark  said  to  him, 
and  in  his  own  heart,  when  he  hailed  him  over  the  fence,  the  verj 
day  it  was  finished,  and  "  reckoned  "  he  would  send  "  a  team  and 
a  hand  down  the  next  day,  to  plough  up  that  'ere  piece  of  land." 
The  hearty  thanks  returned  for  the  neighborly  act,  produced  i-» 
him  a  species  of  pleased  shamefacedness,  that  did  not  improve  the 
natural  awkwardness  of  his  behavior  and  carriage.  With  a  grin 
that  aroused  Bessy's  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous — grateful  as  she 
was — he  struck  his  heels  into  the  sides  of  his  ragged  pony,  and 
passed  off  hi  the  direction  of  Ben  Lomond. 

"  He  and  Mr.  Frisbie  have  a  deal  of  business  together,"  said 
Bessy.  "  Yet  I  should  never  suppose  they  would  be  intimate. 
There  is  such  a  difference  in  the  two  men  I" 

"  They  are  not  much  alike,"  replied  Mark,  mentally  contrast- 
ing the  sharp  Scotchman  with  his  slow,  shiftless  neighbor.  "  Mr. 
Slocum  is  disposed  to  be  friendly  with  us,  I  believe,  and  in  that 
they  resemble  one  another.  If  Mr.  Frisbie  had  the  ability,  ho 
would  do  us  many  a  kind  turn.  We  have  every  reason  to 
be  encouraged,  Bessy  dear.  We  are  gaining  friends,  and  are 
both  young,  and  strong,  and  healthy.  Did  you  ever  see  more 
lovely  weather  ?  Bring  that  bag  of  seeds  out  here  to  tne  door, 
and  let  us  sort  them.  As  there  is  a  prospect  of  getting  our 


NEMESIS.  69 


ground  ready  soon,  we  may  as  well  determine  *hat  to  plant,  and 
where." 

Tli-y  sat  down  on  the  log  that  formed  the  step  to  their  front 
door,  and  Bessie  emptied  the  bag  in  her  lap.  There  were  queer- 
looking  packages,  pinned  and  sewed  up  by  Mis?  Barbara,  the 
pencilled  names  oJ  which  would  have  been  unintelligible,  had  not 
B>  ssy  taken  the  precaution  to  get  a  translation  of  each,  when 
the  sretk  were  given.  Mr.  Selden's  contributions  were  dis- 
ciuctly  labelled  by  Mark  himself.  A  rude  plan  of  the  garden 
was  drawn  upon  a  bit  of  paper,  and  imaginary  squares  and  rows 
of  thrifty  vegetables  grew  rapidly  to  maturity,  as  they  talked 
over  the  sketch.  Even  Kitty  had  her  offering — an  ear  of  pop- 
^crn,  purple  and  white,  which  'Polio  had  brought  her,  one  day 
Dn  his  way  to  pasture  with  the  cows.  Their  milk  now  came  from 
Mr.  Argyfe's  dairy.  Miss  Barbara  would  have  rejected  any  com- 
pensation foi  it,  alleging  that  Bi  ssy  had  "  paid  for  it  twice 

er,"  but  Mark  was  obstinate,  and  she  consoled  herself  by  send- 
ing, for  the  same  money,  double  the  quantity  they  had  obtained 
from  "  that  goosey  Slocum,"  as  she  termed  him. 

"  He's  a  good  enough  cretuij,"  she  said,  "  but  he  don't  know 
nad  he  can't  do  /" 

Cardinal  sins  in  her  sight,  who  saw  everything  that  went  or 
ifcout  her,  and  was  always  "  up  and  doing." 

It  was  a  mild  March  afternoon.  The  air  had  that  softness 
peculiar  to  southern  latitudes,  which  comes  caressingly  to  the 
brow,  and  produces  in  the  lungs  a  luxurious  delight,  as  if  one 
had  just  awakened  to  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  living  and 
breathing; ;  the  effect  of  harmonious  union  between  the  sun  and 
air  ;  such  an  atmosphere  of  warmth,  combined  with  f;- 
is  never  known  iu  colder,  bleaker  climates,  where  if  one  is 
tempted  by  the  delusive  spring  sunshine  to  throw  aside  his  cloak, 
he  refolds  it  over  his  breast  with  a  shiver,  as  he  turns  into  the 
shade  at  the  next  corner.  Kitty  ran  races  with  her  kitten  ii»  thi 


TO  NBME8I8. 

cleared  space  before  the  house,  aiid  her  merriment  was  the  onlj 
sound  that  stirred  the  slumbering  air.  None  of  the  happy,  busy 
party  perceived  a  movement  upon  the  high  road  beyond  tho 
adjacent  field,  and  the  child's  joyous  shouts  overpowered  the 
uoise  of  approaching  wheels.  The  cross  road  leading  to  BOIJ 
Lomond  lay  directly  past  the  cottage,  and  Bessy  presently  raised 
her  head  to  behold  the  uncommon  spectacle  of  a  coach  and  four, 
driven  by  a  negro,  in  whom  she  recognized  one  of  the  Argyle 
servants. 

"  Mark  !"  she  said,  hurriedly.  "It  must  be  Mr.  Argyle  and 
his  daughters.  They  are  expected  every  day." 

The  side-curtains  of  the  chariot  were  rolled  up  to  admit  the 
I  almy  air,  and  the  cottagers  had  a  view  of  the  interior.  On  the 
front  seat  was  a  gentleman,  of  exceedingly  stiff  carriage,  and 
featdres  somewhat  harsh  in  form  and  expression.  His  hair  waa 
powdered,  tied  in  a  queue  at  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  cocked  hat.  He  rested  both  hands  on  the  top  of 
his  cane,  planted  between  his  knees,  and  faced  his  daughters, 
until  they  were  opposite  the  Hales'  door,  when  a  remark  fron) 
one  of  the  young  ladies  caused  him  to  turn  his  head.  The  ladj 
herself  indulged  in  a  broad  stare,  and  the  superciliousness  she 
blended  with  her  curiosity  was  exceedingly  unbecoming  to  a  faco 
already  too  haughty  in  its  beauty.  She  was  dark-haired  and 
daik-browed,  and  sat  a  full  head  higher  than  her  sister,  whose 
blue  eyes  and  yellow  locks  testified  to  her  Celtic  origin. 

Our  friends  arose  as  the  equipage  neared  them.  Mark  bowed. 
and  Bessy  courtesied  respectfully  to  their  landlord,  who  acknow- 
ledged the  salutation  by  a  slight  bend  of  his  majestic  head,  with- 
out the  least  variation  of  countenance.  The  dark  lady  tossed 
b  r  ringlets  up,  instead  of  down,  and  her  lip  obeyed  a  like 
i: -H'lilse.  Her  sister  laughed — not  at  the  occupants  of  the  house, 
but — as  Bessy  was  convinced  by  her  eye  and  gesture — at  some* 
tiling  above  and  behind  them  And  what  should  that  be  bul 


NEMESIS.  71 

Mark's  sign,  token  of  the  lowly  calling  that  made  them  to  be  but 
as  the  dust  beneath  the  feet  of  the  rich  aristocrats  ? 

"  A  proud-looking  set  !"  she  said,   bitterly,  when  they  had 
1.     "  They  are  not  ashamed  to  griiid  the  faces  of  the  poor, 
although  it  would  demean  them  iu  their  own  eyes  to  speak  civilly 
to  u 

"  Bessy  !"  exclaimed  the  astonished  husband.  "  What  are 
you  talking  about  ?  Discontented  and  envious,  my  dear  girl  1 
This  is  not  like  you!'' 

She  felt  that  it  was,  and  with  the  passing  of  the  anger-fit, 
came  a  burst  of  contrite  tears. 

"  I  am  a  weak,  foolish  child!"  she  sobbed,  her  head  on  Mark'a 
shoulder.  "  But  indeed  it  is  not  for  myself  that  I  get  vexed.  I 
know  my  spirit  is  too  high,  my  temper  too  quick,  but  I  cannot 
bear  to  see  you  despised!" 

lie  was  reproachful  no  longer.  His  tone  was  affectionate  and 
lively. 

"  Who  despises  me  ?  Xo  honest  man  cares  for  the  approba- 
tion or  contempt  of  people  who  cannot  see  cause  for  respect  in 
virtuous  industry.  I  am  as  respectable  in  my  place  as  Mr 
Argylc  is  in  his.  My  parents  were  as  honorable  in  the  sight  of 
the  Maker  of  us  all,  as  his  were,  and  my  children  may  yet  take 
rank  with  his,  even  in  this  community.  Pooh  !  pooh  !  little  ouel 
you  are  spending  fire  and  water  for  nothing.  I  venture  to  say 
we  are  happier,  day  in  and  day  out,  than  father  and  daughters  ii 
their  grand  house." 

*'  How  scornfully  those  girls  looked  at  your  sign  !"  said  Bessy, 
fiehamed,  yet  unwilling  to  accept  his  dissipation  of  her  fancies. 

"  Did  they  ?"  Mark  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  the  painted 
board.  "  I  see  nothing  amiss  about  it.  It  is  a  very  decent  sign, 
to  my  opinion.  Perhaps  the  fashion  of  lettering  has  changed 
rince  it  was  painted.  They  are  just  from  Xew  York,  and  know 
all  about  these  things  I  tell  you  what  !  we  can't  afford  to  hide 


72  NEMESIS. 

the  sign,  and  wouldn't,  if  we  could,  but  it  would  be  an  improve 
meat,  if  these  weather-beaten  logs  were  covered.  Our  lime  haa 
all  given  out,  and  it  would  be  extravagant  to  buy  more,  if  we  had 
money,  which  we  have  not.  Miss  Barbara  says  that  I  am  wel- 
come to  as  many  hop  vines  from  her  garden,  as  I  can  dig  up 
They  grow  very  fast,  and,  to  my  mind,  there  is  no  prettier  creepei 
in  the  world.  How  would  it  look  to  have  a  row  of  them,  all 
along  the  front  of  the  house  ?  They  and  the  morning-glories  will 
make  a  gay  bower  for  us  by  midsummer." 

Bessy's  love  for  the  beautiful  was  a  passion  ;  and  Mark's  diver- 
sion of  her  thoughts  adroit  and  effectual.  The  various  processes 
of  gardening,  digging,  raking,  and  planting  filled  up  brain,  hands 
and  time  for  the  next  month.  Bessy  hardly  ever  bethought  her- 
self of  the  important  change  at  the  great  house,  except  when  her 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  gay  cavalcades  of  visitors  passing 
up  and  down  the  road,  as  the  family  coach  whirled  by,  leaving  a 
cloud  of  dust  after  its  wheels  ;  or  Mr.  Argyle  drove  out  in  a  very 
high  gig,  drawn  by  a  horse,  almost  as  pompous  as  his  owner,  and 
followed  by  an  outrider,  the  laborious  aim  of  whose  existence  it 
was  to  uphold  his  own  and  his  master's  dignity.  Miss  Barbara, 
Bessy  rightly  guessed,  was  too  busy  to  come  down  to  the  cottage 
herself ;  but  they  had  several  kindly  messages,  and  Kitty  more 
than  one  present  from  her.  The  choicest  of  these  last  consisted 
of  some  foreign  sweetmeats  and  a  dress  of  Scotch  plaid,  which,, 
although  the  recipients  did  not  suspect  it,  at  the  time,  was  clipped 
from  the  not  over  abundant  pattern  she  had  commissioned  Mr 
Argyle  to  procure  abroad  for  herself.  Bessy  missed  the  visits  and 
the  useful  counsels  of  her  eccentric  friend  ;  but  she  said  to  her- 
Belf  that  each  was  in  the  path  of  duty,  and  that  these  lay  too  far 
apart  for  them  to  be  as  intimate  associates  as  formerly. 

The  tallest  shoots  of  the  hop-vines  were  as  long  as  a  man's 
arm,  and  were  beginning  to  cling  emulously  to  the  strings  depend 
ing  from  the  eaves,  to  direct  and  encourage  their  upward  aspiru 


NEMESIS.  73 

tions  ;  the  borders  and  squares  in  the  garden  were  dotted  and 
streaked  and  carpeted  with  pale-green  leaves  and  blades  ;  the 
two  hens  sat,  in  solemn  perseverance,  upon  a  dozen  eggs  each, 
and  the  rooster  stalked  and  crowed  in  the  conscious  pride  of  pro- 
ipective  paternity.  Peace  and  comfort  reigned  in-doors  as  well 
The  ring  of  the  hammer  upon  the  lapstone  resounded  there,  as 
regularly,  if  not  with  as  much  rapidity,  as  did  the  bustling,  brazen 
tongue  of  the  clock.  Those  were  pleasant  spring  days.  The 
morning  duties  dispatched,  the  fire  was  covered  over  a  smoulder 
ing  back-log,  to  abide  its  resurrection  at  dinner-time,  and  Bessv 
sat  down  in  her  low  chair  at  her  husband's  side,  to  her  task  of 
binding  shoes.  The  clinking  hammer  was  no  hindrance  to  their 
talk,  and  the  mother's  hands  and  eyes  were  never  so  busy  that 
Kitty's  wants  and  questions  did  not  meet  a  ready  and  patient 
i,  espouse. 

Unless  prevented  by  a  press  of  work,  Mark  devoted  an  hour  of 
eaily  morning,  and  two  of  the  afternoon  to  the  garden  or  the 
forent.  He  was  equipped  for  an  excursion  to  the  latter,  after 
their  noon-day  dinner,  one  sultry  Saturday  afternoon,  when  the 
rumble  of  distant  thunder  drew  his  notice  to  the  rising  of  a  black 
cloud  in  the  west.  His  tender  plants  were  beginning  to  stand 
in  need  of  rain,  and  he  was  well  satisfied  to  return  his  axe  and 
fagot-strap  to  their  places,  and  watch  the  coming  shower.  The 
dark  masses  of  vapor  rolled  swiftly  onward,  and  there  were  few 
peals  and  flashes,  short  as  were  the  intervals  of  calm,  before  the 
spring  rain  swept  in  mist  and  torrents  over  field  and  wood. 
Mark  shut  the  door  to  keep  out  the  spray,  and  was  standing  at 
the  window,  when  a  horseman  rode  up  at  half  speed,  tore  the 
•addle-bags  and  saddle  from  his  steed,  and  ran  toward  the  house 
Mark  hastened  to  admit  him. 

"  Walk  in,  sir,"  he  said,  anxiously;  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  very 
wet." 

He  hazarded  n  nhing  by  the  conjecture,  for  rivulets  of  rain-water 

* 


NEMESIS. 

were  pouring  from  the  strangers  figure,  all  orer  the  nicely- sanded 
floor.  The  first  use  he  made  of  his  breath,  when  he  recovered  it, 
was  to  apologize  for  this  damage,  so  unintentionally  committed. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  am  not  the  only  sufferer,"  he  said,  with  a 
pleasant  smile  and  bow  to  Bessy,  that  would  have  consoled  her 
for  a  far  more  serious  derangement  in  her  household  economy. 

"  That  is  of  no  consequence,  sir,"  rejoined  Mark,  "  provided 
you  receive  no  injury  beside  the  inconvenience  you  feel  in  your 
damp  clothes.  Fortunately,  the  fire  has  not  gone  down  entirely. 
Be  seated,  if  you  please." 

He  stirred  the  embers,  and  threw  on  some  dry  sticks  to  raise  a 
blaze.  Bessy  slipped  into  the  rear  chamber  ;  was  gone  a  minuie 
or  two,  and  returning,  said  something  aside  to  her  husband. 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  change  your  clothing,  sir,"  entreated 
Mark  ;  "  my  wife  has  laid  out  some  of  mine  in  the  other  room, 
which  you  will  oblige  me  by  accepting,  until  she  can  dry  yours  at 
the  fire." 

"  It  would  be  both  unwise  and  unkind  in  me  not  to  accept  an 
offer  so  frankly  made,"  said  the  stranger,  gratefully.  "  I  have 
been  a  grievous  sufferer,  in  days  past,  from  rheumatism,  and  the 
wetting  which  would,  to  most  men  in  my  apparent  health,  be  a 
mere  nothing,  may  prove  a  serious  matter  to  me,  without  the  cau- 
tion you  advise." 

In  ten  minuses  after,  he  was  sitting  at  his  ease,  in  the  arm- 
chair, arrayed  in  Mark's  Sunday  suit,  that  fitted  him  moderately 
well,  and  chatting  with  his  host,  while  the  careful  Bessy  hung  the 
damp  garraents  over  a  couple  of  chairs,  placed  upon  the  hearth. 
The  guest  was  a  man  already  past  the  meridian  of  life,  a  circum- 
stance indicated  by  his  frosted  hair,  and  Time's  unmistakable 
pencil-strokes  in  the  region  of  the  eyes  and  mouth.  He  was  still 
erect,  and,  as  he  said,  seemingly  robust  in  health  ;  his  step  was 
firm,  his  gaze  clear  and  penetrating,  and  his  voice  had  a  sweetness 
and  volume,  a  rich  quality  of  tone  that  charmed  the  listener,  lik' 


N  *  M  E  8  I  8  .  76 

the  full  cnorcls  of  A  musical  instrument.     His  manner  was  nnlural 
and  easy,  evincing  an  eminently  social  temperament. 

"  I  do  not  complain  of  the  rain,"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  dim 
and  streaming  window.  "  Even  while  exposed  to  it,  I  was  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  the  risk  of  possible  illness  to  myself  was  01 
trifling  consequence  in  comparison  with  the  benefit  others  would 
derive  from  the  timely  shower.  I  am  enough  of  a  farmer  to 
appreciate  the  ruinous  consequences  of  a  drought  in  spring." 

It  was  a  common-place  remark,  but  it  threw  down  the  barriers 
of  reserve,  and  Mark  was  led  on  until  he  found  himself  using  a 
freedom  of  speech  he  had  not  enjoyed  before,  save  with  his  wife,  in 
this  land  of  strangers.  The  eye  of  his  guest  dwelt  on  him  with 
more  interest  each  moment ;  he  was  evidently  surprised  at  the 
correct  language,  and  intelligent'  views  expressed  by  a  man  in  so 
lowly  a  station,  and  curiosity  prompted  him  to  push  his  inquiries, 
as  far  as  delicacy  would  sanction  investigation,  into  his  previous 
history.  One  happy  discovery  facilitated  the  progress  of  their 
acquaintance.  It  was  Mark's  avowal  of  his  religious  sentiments 
and  church  membership.  The  stranger's  face  kindled  with  a  glow 
of  affectionate  emotion. 

"  In  Christ  Jesus  all  are  brethren,"  he  said  ;  "  I  am  more 
than  thankful  for  the  storm  that  pelted  me  to  this  shelter.  I  am 
thoroughly  familiar  with  this  section  of  our  State,  and  regard  the 
residence  of  every  evangelical  Christian  here  as  a  '  light  shining 
in  a  dark  place.'  The  people  of  this  vicinity  are  intelligent, 
refined,  and  hospitable  ;  but  there  is  a  lamentable  dearth  of 
church  privileges,  and  a  consequent  apathy — a  sort  of  fashionable 
indifference  to  religion,  that  is  more  discouraging  than  pagan 
ignorance.  Yon  may  do  great  good  here." 

"  The  way  may  be  opened  to  me,"  replied  Mafk.     "  But  to 

fpeak  honestly,  if  I  had  not  been  misinformed — I  hope  undesigu- 

edly — with  regard  to  the  opportunities  for  attending  public  wor- 

'  »hip,  nothing  would  have  tempted  me  to  choose  this  spo*  as  a 


6  NEMESIS. 

home.  It  is  so  diffe :ent  in  my  native  place,  and  I  was  so  tupre 
pared  for  the  state  of  things  I  hare  since  found  heie,  that  I  took 
too  much  for  granted.  It  is  a  fearful  responsibility  for  a  man  to 
turr.  his  back  upon  the  sanctuary  and  the  means  of  grace  God 
has  appointed  and  blessed — particularly,  when  there  are  those 
connected  with  him,  who  might  also  be  profited  by  the  preaching 
of  the  word,  and  intercourse  with  the  Lord's  people." 

"  Yet  Providence  may  have — but,  why  do  I  say  may  have  ? 
God  has  sent  you  hither,  for  purposes  of  his  own.  '  His  ways 
are  not  as  our  ways,'  and  He  often  makes  life's  darkest  day  seem 
the  brightest,  when  we  look  back  over  our  lives  at  their  close. 
Some  secrets  he  leaves  for  eternity  to  explain,  and  to  many  he 
graciously  grants  us  the  key,  while  we  are  still  in  the  flesh.  Do 
you  see  this  ?" 

He  held  up  his  arm,  and  Mark  discovered  what  Bessy's  quick 
eye  had  perceived  at  his  entrance — that  he  had  lost  a  hand,  its 
place  being  supplied  by  a  silver  plate. 

"  Your  countenances  tell  me  that  you  are  shocked,  and  that 
you  pity  my  unhappy  plight,"  continued  the  visitor.  "  The  mis- 
fortune, as  it  was  then  styled,  overtook  me  when  I  was  a  boy, 
and  was  the  means,  in  the  Almighty's  wisdom,  of  altering  the 
whole  purpose  of  my  life.  It  made  me  a  student — the  student 
became  a  minister  of  the  everlasting  Gospel.  Dare  I  regret  it 
now  ?" 

"  You  have  learned  the  use  of  afflictions,"  said  Mark,  with 
increased  respect.  "  Many  study  them,  perhaps  quite  as  carefully 
as  you  have  done,  without  seeing  the  end  from  the  way." 

"  Their  duty  is  none  the  less  plain  on  that  account.  It  is  to 
rait  on  the  Lord  and  be  of  good  courage,  believing  that  '  He 
will  strong  itoen  their  hearts.'  Every  step  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  is  numbered,  and  so  is  every  affliction  ;  and  had  we  no 
othor  support,  when  trouble  is  sent  upon  us,  there  is  some  com- 
"ort  in  reflecting  that  when  we  have  suffered  one,  there  are  few  of 


NEMESIS.  71 

to  suffer.  Here  on  earth,  we  need  leading  about  and  instruct- 
ing, and  we  are  such  dunces  that,  many  times,  we  refuse  to 
receive  instruction,  except  by  painful  discipline.  The  rain  is 
over,  and  I  promised  to  meet  some  friends  at  dinuer-time.  My 
clothing  is  dry,  I  think,  madam — thanks  to  your  goodness  1 

"  I  wish  I  could  say  how  much  obliged  I  am  to  you  both,"  h« 
said,  when  he  was  ready  to  go. 

"  Say  nothing  on  that  score,  sir,"  interrupted  Mark.  "  The 
pleasure  and  advantage  have  been  on  our  side.  May  I  make  so 
free  as  to  ask  a  favor  of  you,  before  you  leave  us  ?" 

"  Assuredly  I"  with  an  expression  that  sho'wed  he  anticipated 
and  approved  its  nature. 

"  It-has  been  a  weary  time  since  our  home  was  honored  by  the 
presence  of  a  minister,  sir.  Will  you  pray  with  us,  that  the 
blessing  of  God  may  follow  this  visit  ?" 

The  modest  grace  and  fervor  of  the  request  went  to  the  heart 
of  the  guest.  Without  further  reply  than  was  given  hy  hia 
kindling  eye,  he  took  the  Bible  Mark  presented,  and  read  the 
psalm,  from  which  he  had  quoted  : 

"  The  Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation,  whom  shall  I  fear  ? 
The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life,  of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid  ?" 

The  opening  sentence  of  his  prayer  was  the  key-note  to  the  rest, 
and  Mark  could  have  believed  it  the  utterance  of  an  angel,  who 
had  lingered  near,  during  the  preceding  conversation  :  "  We  blesa 
thee,  0  Father,  that  none  of  thy  children  need  ever  faint  in  heart, 
for  who  of  us  has  not  seen  the  goodness  of  the  Lord  in  the  land 
of  the  li viug  ?" 

There  were  tears  on  Bessy's  cheek,  when  she  arose  from  her 
knees,  and  Mark's  spirit  bounded  in  the  hope  that  the  desired 
blessing  might  be  already  near  at  hand  A  holy  calm  abode  u? 
the  twilight  of  that  Saturday  evening,  kept  by  them,  with  the 
strictness  of  puritanical  usage.  And,  in  conformity  with  the 
general  tendency  of  blessings  to  gather  into  groups,  there  came, 


7H  NEMESIS. 

at  bed-time,  a  messenger  from  Miss  Barbara,  with  a  note.  It  waa 
scrawled  m  baste,  and  original  in  spelling  and  punctuation  ;  but 
Mark  made  out  that  several  ministers  had  stopped  ovei  Sabbath, 
at  Ben  Lomond,  and  that  there  would  be  two  sermons  at  Deep 
Run  the  next  day  ;  furthermore,  that  Miss  Barbara  would  call 
for  them — "  and  Kitty"  was  underscored — on  her  way  to  church. 

They  were  ready  in  the  morning  long  before  she  came  by.  The 
Ben  Lomond  coach  had  gone  on  to  church,  and  four  or  five  gen- 
tlemen on  horseback  ;  among  them,  their  late  visitor,  who  bowed 
and  waved  his  hand  in  passing.  Then,  the  rumbling  of  other 
wheels  revived  Kitty's  flagging  spirits.  There  was  no  mistake 
this  time.  Miss  Barbara's  vehicle  was  a  blue-bodied,  springless 
wagon,  without  a  top  ;  her  couriers  were  four  stout  mules, 
amployed  on  week-days  in  the  drudgery  of  the  plantation.  The 
bottom  of  the  wagon  was  lined  with  straw,  and  split-bottomed 
chairs  were  prepared  for  her  companions — a  low  one  for  Kitty 
amongst  them. 

"  All  right  1"  said  the  housekeeper,  squaring  herself  to  sustain 
'  the  expected  joltings.  "  Drive  on,  Reuben  1  and  don't  shake  all 
the  life  out  of  us — you  hear  1  Wed  as  lief  hear  one  more  Gospel 
sermon,  as  not." 

Deep  Run  was  but  two  and  a  half  miles  distant,  and  this  space 
was  accomplished  with  shaking  frames  and  chattering  teeth,  but 
whole  bones.  Postboys  had  been  sent  IB  various  directions,  the 
afternoon  before,  to  apprise  the  neighbors  of  th}  intended  services, 
and  the  news  had  travelled,  by  its  own  weight,  as  it  were,  <Von} 
one  plantation  to  another.  Of  this  the  Hales  were  ignorant,  and 
the  large  gathering  in  and  around  the  church  was  an  incompre- 
hensible enigma  to  them.  Miss  Barbara  and  Bessy  had  difficulty 
In  securing  seats  within  the  building,  and  Mark  stood  the  whole 
while.  His  situation  afforded  him  a  view  of  the  congregation, 
which  he  would  not  have  exchanged  for  the  most  comfortabl« 
bench  there. 


NEMESIS.  7S 


It  was  a  mot,1  cy  gathering  as  to  sex,  age  aiid  noudition.  llii 
meutal  description  of  his  emotions  at  the  contemplation,  was  in 
the  words  of  the  Book  in  which  he  was  L  est  read  : 

"  The  rich  aiid  the  poor  meet  together.  The  Lord  is  the  maker  of  then 
all." 

"  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude,  I  went  with  them  to  the  house  of  God, 
with  *Jie  voice  of  joy  and  praise ;  with  a  multitude  that  kept  holy  day." 

The  pulpit,  a  narrow  box,  without  drapery  or  cushion,  was, 
according  to  the  laws  then  governing  church  architecture,  elevated 
above  the  heads  of  the  audience,  and  resembled  an  honorable 
pillory.  It  was  empty,  and  our  hero  soon  identified  the  ministers 
in  half  a  dozen  gentlemen,  sitting  on  a  form,  to  the  left  of  the 
uninviting  rostrum. 

They  were  men  who  bore  the  title  of  "  Reverend,"  like  those 
who  had  won  it  hardly,  and  carried  with  it  a  load  of  responsi- 
bility, that,  but  for  help  from  a  higher  Power,  would  have  crushed 
body  and  soul.  There  were  giants  in  those  days  ;  instruments, 
veelded  and  tempered  for  the  age  ;  Jehus,  who  drove  furiously 
over  the  corpses  of  superstition,  and  the  brutal  opposition  of  igno- 
rant depravity  ;  I-saiahs,  mighty  hi  the  Lord,  who  reasoned  and 
menaced  and  prophesied  in  his  name  ;  Jeremiahs,  who  mourned 
from  the  wrung  depths  of  brothers'  hearts,  because  "  the  hurt  of 
the  daughter  of  their  people  was  not  healed  ;"  Johns,  austere  in 
life  and  demeanor  ;  indifferent  whether  they  strode  upon  flowers 
or  thorns,  if  only  they  might  make  His  paths  straight ;  and 
Pauls,  calm  of  front  and  courteous  in  bearing,  yet  ready,  with 
the  double-edged  Damascus  blade  of  logic  and  eloquence,  to 
combat  the  sophistry  of  the  schools,  and  penetrate  the  thick 
bosses  of  hardeLed  unbelief.  They  were  not  rose-water  philan- 
thropists ;  not  bombastic  praters  about  the  Real,  the  Mystic,  the 
Esthetic  ;  not  popular  caterers  to  ths  morbid  taste  for  the  npvel, 
the  doubtful,  'ihe  fantastic.  Instead  of  eulogizing  Earnestness 


ftO  NEMESI8. 

they  lived  and  died  heroes,  each  with  his  t  a  mess  on  ;  instead  of, 
in  words,  deifying  humanity,  their  deeds  proved  how  sublime  a 
thing  it  could  be  made,  when  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  made  its 
dwelling-place  in  the  creatures  formed  after  His  image. 

"  The  prophets — do  they  live  for  ever  ?  and  the  fathers —  rhere 
are  they  ?"  Gone  with  the  generation  that  entertained  them  un- 
awares, or  with  a  feeble  glimmering  of  their  character  and  aims. 
They  rest  from  their  labors — and  their  works  !  who  can  deny  that 
they  follow  them  ?  Is  not  their  imperishable  record  to  be  read  in 
the  hill-side  and  grove  churches  ;  the  stately  spires  of  the  fair 
land  they  loved  with  true  patriots'  pride  ?  the  voice  of  prayer  and 
praise  from  thousands  of  family  altars,  whose  foundations  they 
laid  ;  the  noble  band  of  working  Christians,  to  whom  they 
bequeathed  the  legacy  of  pastoral  instruction  and  father!} 
blessings  ? 

Mark  had  been  accustomed  to  witness  and  practise  the  utrnos* 
gravity  and  decorum  in  the  sanctuary,  and  the  buzzing,  heaving 
crowd  that  now  thronged  the  edifice,  was,  to  him,  shocking  in  ita 
novelty. 

"  Will  they  ever  remember  in  whose  presence  they  are  ?"  ho 
wondered,  in  grief  and  annoyance. 

From  among  the  band  of  ministers  was  uplifted  a  voice  so 
sweet,  so  powerful,  that  every  ear  lent  instant  attention.  The 
words  were  known  to  Mark,  and,  as  was  presently  apparent,  t« 
many  others  also  : 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins  ; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  at!  their  guilty  stains. 

'  The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain,  in  his  day  ; 
And  there  may  I,  'though  vile  as  he. 
Wash  all  my  sind  away. 


NEMESIS  81 

*•  Dear,  dying  Lamb!  thy  precious  blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power, 
Till  all  the  ransomed  church  of  God 
Be  saved,  to  sin  no  more. 

"  Ere  since  by  Faith,  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  Love  has  been  my  theme, 
And  shall  be — 'till  I  die. 

"  Then,  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song, 

I'll  sing  Thy  power  to  save, 
When  this  poor,  lisping,  stamm'ring  tongue 
Lies  silent  in  the  grave." 

Hie  melody,  wild  and  plaintive,  was  raised  by  hundreds  of 
foices  ;  the  negroes,  who  surrounded  the  building,  and  packed 
doors  and  windows,  joining  hi,  with  the  might  of  their  strong 
lungs  ;  yet,  audible  above  all,  strengthening  and  directing  the 
rolling  volume  of  song  without  one  strained  or  false  note,  was  that 
•vonderful  voice. 

The  music  had  calmed  and  harmonized  the  incongruous  crowd 
and  three  ministers  ascended  the  pulpit  stairs.  The  preliminary 
exercises  were  conducted  by  strangers  ;  the  preacher  was  the 
chorister,  who  had  led  the  hymn,  and  likewise  the  Hales'  provi« 
dential  acquaintance. 

"  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might  have  life,"  pro- 
Bounced  m  his  sonorous,  musical  accents,  with  a  mournful  em- 
phasis, fixed  the  interest  of  his  auditors,  and  he  did  not  lose  it  to 
the  end  of  his  discourse.    To  the  furthest  verge  of  the  assemblage, 
in<loors  and  out,  rang  tones  like  a  silver  trumpet,  stirrin_r 
pulses  and  quickening  many  hearts.    Persuasive,  urgent,  alarming, 
always   earnest — he   set   forth   the  oft-told,   ever-new   story  of 
redemption  ;  threw  wide  the  doors  of  mercy,  and  pointing  allci 
uately  to  Calvary  and  to  Sinai,  implored  and  warned  his  boarovi 


82  WEMES18. 

to  enter  It  was  a  sermon  long  remembered  in  the  community  | 
the  precious  date  to  some,  of  the  beginning  of  the  better  life. 

There  was  a  recess,  and  a  second  sermon,  sound  and  able,  but 
less  impressive  than  that  of  the  forenoon,  concluded  the  day's 
exercises. 

"  That  last  preacher  is  a  Doctor  of  Divinity,"  remarked  Miss 
Barbara,  as  she  climbed  into  her  wagon.  "  He's  a  mighty  smart 
man,  they  say — one  of  the  pillars  of  the  church  ;  but  for  my  part, 
I  would  not  give  Mr.  Laidley  for  two  of  him.  H<?s  the  people's 
man,  and  a  blesscder  never  lived  on  this  sinful  earth." 

"A  poor  conclusion,  Miss  Barbara  1"  said  a  voice  behind  hei, 
that  made  her  start.  "  Do  not  be  deluding  my  friends — who,  I 
am  pleased  to  see  are  yours  also, — with  such  heretical  ideas.  I 
stepped  up  to  bid  you  '  farewell,'  "  continued  Mr.  Laidley  to  the 
Hales,  who  were  still  standing  upon  the  ground. 

"Let  me  thank  you  for  your  sermon,  sir,"  said  Mark.  "'( 
shall  never  forget  it." 

"  You  will  have  something  to  remember  me  by,  then.  It  is 
well,  for  I  am  loath  to  think  of  my  passing  entirely  from  ycur 
minds.  We  may  never  meet  again  this  side  of  our  everlasting 
home.  I  hope  to  see  and  know  you  there.  The  Lord  bless  and 
keep  you  and  yours  !" 

He  shook  hands  with  both  ;  raised  Kitty  for  a  kiss,  and  ihvj 
parted — to  meet  again  ? — and  where  ? 


HKME8IB.  Si 


CHAPTER  VI 

WITH  the  march  of  summer,  the  sun  of  prosperity  beamed  con- 
etantly  upoi  our  emigrants.  The  simile  of  the  bee-hive,  when 
applied  to  their  habitation,  was  more  pertinent  than  ever.  The 
homely,  cheerful  creepers  screened  the  sides  of  the  house  and  par- 
tially thatched  the  roof ;  while  within,  the  life  of  busy  seclusion 
ncnt  on  patiently  and  brightly.  Ben  Lomond  was  alive  with 
company  all  the  season  ;  but  the  foaming  cataract  of  gaiety  cast 
scarcely  a  drop  into  the  limpid  spring  of  domestic  peace.  Bun- 
yan's  shepherd-boy  wore  not  more  of  the  "  herb  called  Hearts-ease 
in  his  bosom,"  than  did  the  artisan  and  his  faithful  wife.  The 
tug  of  life's  battle  was  over,  they  ventured  to  believe,  and,  so  far 
as  mortal  vision  could  pierce  the  cloudy  Future,  everything 
promised  well  for  the  fulfillment  of  their  hopes. 

[n  July  there  were  renewed  rejoicings  in  the  Argyle  connection 
over  the  return  of  the  collegian  son.  He,  like  his  sisters,  was  a 
great  deal  from  home.  Twice  a  day  the  Hales  saw  him  gallop 
along  the  lane,  on  his  fiery  young  horse — rumor  said,  bound  to 
and  from  Mr.  Selden's,  for  his  attachment  to  that  gentleman's 
eldest  daughter  was  talked  of  seriously,  as  each  neared  the  age 
of  discretion.  Kitty  learned  to  know  his  swift  tramp,  and 
would  dart  to  the  door  to  drop  her  pretty  courtesy,  in  response  to 
the  bow  and  hail,  that  never  failed  her.  Two  or  three  times  he 
checked  his  speed  at  the  fence  which  now  shut  in  the  front  yard, 
and  chatted  with  Mark  about  his  garden  and  his  prospects  ;  hia 
mien  and  language  bespeaking  him  the  thorough  gentleman. 


84  NEMESIS. 

who  feared  no  contamination  from  intercourse  with  an  honesi 
man,  however  despised  his  calling  might  be  hi  the  public  esteem. 

"  He  has  none  of  the  family  pride  about  him/'  said  Bessy,  one 
day,  as  he  cantered  away,  after  one  of  these  calls. 

"  None  of  the  family  haughtiness,  you  mean,"  answered  Mark. 
u  J  am  mistaken  if  he  has  not  more  pride  and  strength  of  will 
than  any  of  the  rest ;  and  he  would  show  it  ^ut,  if  he  were 
placed  in  circumstances  that  tried  him.  He  is  a  noble  boy  I 
What  a  pity  he  should  be  spoiled  by  the  world  1" 

"  Why  must  he  ?" 

"  It  is  not  certain,  but  there  is  a  reasonable  probability  that 
he  will  be.  He  is  hemmed  hi  by  temptations,  from  which  a  poor 
man's  son  would  be  saved  by  his  poverty.  Do  you  not  see  and 
hear  how  he  is  courted  and  flattered  by  high  and  low  ?" 

"  He  deserves  it,  I  am  sure." 

"  I  don't  deny  that,  either.  He  is  rich,  handsome,  spirited, 
clever — everything  that  goes  to  make  up  a  desirable  companion 
over  the  bottle  and  hi  the  ball-room.  I  wish  that  he  remembered 
lus  mother.  It  might  be  a  safe-guard." 

"  He  does.     He  was  six  years  old  when  she  died." 

•'  Pictures  of  persons  and  things  seen  at  that  age,  would  be 
fery  indistinct  by  the  tune  ten  years  had  passed,  unless  great 
pains  were  taken  to  keep  them  before  the  child's  mind.  J.f  it 
were  not  that  Mr.  Argyle  has  heard  frequent  descriptions  o'  his 
mother's  appearance  and  sayings,  I  question  whether  the  /act 
of  his  ever  having  known  her  would  not  seem  like  a  dream  to  1  im." 

"  How  you  talk,  Mark  !  There  is  Kitty,  who  was  four  -.  oars 
old  last  week.  Do  you  suppose,  if  I  were  taken  away,  she  w  '  uld 
not  recollect  me  when  she  is  grown  up  ?-' 

"  I  will  suppose  nothing  upon  such  an  unlikely  '  if,' "  au:m-  i*eA 
Mark,  playfully.  "  You  are  to  live  to  dandle  your  grandchilc  /a, 
and  sit  in  the  chimney  corner  with  your  pipe  in  your  moutl  a 
Miss  Barbara  does,  much  as  you  dislike  tobacco  now  1" 


NEMESIS.  85 

Kitty  and  her  kitten  took  a  stroll  by  themselves  that  afternoon 
op  to  the  bend  in  the  road,  beyond  which  they  were  forbidden 
ever  to  go,  without  the  protection  of  some  person  older  than  her- 
self. At  the  extreme  limit  of  her  promenade,  the  child  sat  down 
under  a  chinquapin  bush,  full  of  green  burrs  that  would  be 
6rown  in  the  autumn,  and  strained  hei  eyes  longingly  toward  the 
distant  gate  of  Ben  Lomond.  A  day  with  "Aunt  Barbara"  was 
a  uiort  common  luxury  to  her  than  to  her  parents  ;  but  these 
pleasures  were  very  far  apart,  indeed,  to  her  imagination.  She 
dearly  loved  their  benefactress — for  such  she  was,  to  the  extreme 
of  her  ability — and  che  was,  child-like,,  fond  of  variety,  even  in  her 
happy  life.  The  beautiful  dresses  and  flashing  jewels,  the  flowers, 
feathers  and  furbelows  of  the  Misses  Argyle  and  their  associates, 
as  they  flitted  through  the  porches  and  halls,  and  occasionally 
paused  in  the  housekeeper's  room,  to  consult  or  interrogate  that 
functionary,  were  like  glimpses  of  Fairyland  to  Kitty.  They  paid 
no  heed  to  her,  after  they  had  once  inquired  of  Miss  Barbara  who 
she  was,  and  she  had  come  not  to  expect  their  notice. 

Old  Mr.  Argyle  was  there  several  times  each  clay;  cross  and 
fidgety,  she  considered  him,  and  always  crept  into  Miss  Bar- 
bara's bedchamber  when  she  heard  his  step  and  cane  approaching. 
She  betook  herself  to  no  such  retreat  when  Malcolm's  free  tread 
and  cheery  whistle  drew  near.  He,  too,  sought  "Aunt  Bab  "  in 
every  strait,  but  it  was  as  a  friend  and  foster-mother.  Did  ho 
have  one  of  his  bad  headaches — he  lay  down  upon  her  settee  ; 
his  head  in  her  lap,  and  Kitty  was  permitted  to  hold  the  smelling* 
bottle,  or  the  saucer  of  vinegar  and  water  to  wet  the  brown  papei 
bound  about  his  forehead.  "  Aunt  Bab  "  always  knew  where  to 
find  the  missing  whip  or  powder-flask  ;  her  needle  v. 

id  to  replace  a  lest  button,  or  to  take  the  tim< \ 

ue.  And  for  recreation,  there  was  the  exhaustless  fun  of 
teazing  his  attached  nurse,  who  scolded  while  she  petted,  and  * 
lively  romp  with  his  little  favorite.  He  never  overlooked  her.  o/ 


<  NEMESIS. 

forgot  to  speak  to  he: ;  and  baby  as  she  was,  she  regarded  him 
with  an  ardent  and  admiring  devotion,  whose  depth  even  her 
mother  did  not  fathom,  although  the  child's  prattle  was  con- 
tinually of  "  Mr.  Malcolm,"  and  the  kind  and  funny  things  he  did 
and  said.  Brains  as  immature  as  hers  are  capable  of  devising 
Bchemcs,  and  of  concealing  them.  Bessy  had  not  a  suspicion  why 
Kitty's  afternoon  ramble  was  so  often  "  up  the  road — -just  to  th& 
turning — please,  mamma  1" 

Still  more  would  the  mother  have  been  puzzled  by  the  eager 
glances,  cast  in  the  direction  of  the  cottage,  as  the  reddening  sky 
and  stretching  shadows  announced  the  usual  hour  of  Malcolm's 
return.  The  black  eyes  were  larger  and  more  wistful,  each 
moment,  and,  seen  under  the  green  leaves,  might  have  been  mis- 
taken for  those  of  a  startled  fawn,  crouching  to  escape  her  pur- 
suers. 

He  was  very  late  !  Mamma  would  be  waiting  supper  for  her, 
and  papa  maybe  come  to  look  for  her,  and  then  she  should  not 
see  him  at  all  to-night  I  and  her  lip  trembled  at  the  thought.  A 
cloud  of  dust  in  the  distance  drew  her  once  from  her  covert.  Her 
heart  beat  fast  and  loud,  and  her  tiny  hands  clasped  each  other 
uervously.  But  it  was  only  'Polio,  driving  his  cows  home,  with 
a  great  ado  of  yelping  from  himself,  and  barking  from  his  dog. 
She  was  so  glad  he  did  not  have  to  pass  this  way  !  Her  throat 
ached  so  badly  that  she  would  be  sure  to  cry  if  she  tried  to  speak. 
It  was  amusing,  yet  pitiful,  to  see  the  disappointment  in  the  little 
creature's  face,  as  she  sunk  again  to  her  seat  in  the  long  grass, 
and  laid  her  head  on  her  knees.  Hark  !  that  was  certainly  the 
tramp  of  a  horse's  feet  on  the  gravelly  road,  and  nobody  else 
rode  so  fast !  He  was  coming  !  She  must  stand  up,  or  he 
might  not  see  her.  She  did  not  aspire  to  speaking  with  him. 
Her  modest  ambition  was  to  catch  his  eye  and  a  snrile — perhapg 
R  "  Good  evening,  Kitty  I"  if  he  were  not  in  too  much  of  a  hurry. 

The  unconscious  object  of  all  this  innocent  idolatry  ;  the  sub 


N  K  M  E  6  I  8  .  81 

feet  of  these  guileless  manoeuvres,  rode  right  onward  and  toward 
his  worshipper.  Kitty's  taste  was  not  to  be  cavilled  at.  Many 
a  maiden,  whose  age  quadrupled  hers,  would  have  sat  as  willingly 
and  longer  by  the  roadside,  for  the  mere  chance  of  getting  a  look 
or  a  word  from  him.  Ills  fair  hair  was  blown  back  by  his  rapid 
motion  through  the  evening  air  ;  his  cheeks  glowing,  and  his  lips 
parted  in  a  smile,  that  told  of  zestful  enjoyment  in  his  glorious 
present,  and  all  a  youth's  sanguine  Teachings  toward  brighter 
days  beyond.  His  dark-blue  eyes  looked  straight  ahead,  and 
their  level  rays  were  so  far  above  Kitty's  stature,  that  she  invo- 
luntarily advanced  a  pace  into  the  road.  The  mettled  steed 
sprang  madly  aside,  and  the  unguarded  rider  was  hurled  to  the 
ground.  With  a  frightened  neigh,  the  horse  sped  back  over  the 
route  he  had  come,  leaving  the  harmless  cause  of  his  panic  alone 
with  his  master. 

Mark  was  busy  in  the  garden  as  the  animal  dashed  past,  and 
dropping  his  hoe,  and  calling  to  his  wife  to  follow  him,  he  ran  in 
search  of  the  unfortunate  boy  He  was  stretched  senseless  upon 
the  stony  soil,  and  from  his  temple,  a  stream  of  blood  welled 
slowly  through  Kitty's  fingers,  which  were  pressed  passionately 
upon  the  wound.  With  the  utmost  care,  and  with  difficulty,  the 
husband  and  wife  bore  the  lifeless  form  to  their  cottage.  Mark 
got  him  upon  the  bed,  and,  after  instructing  Bessy  to  staunch 
the  blood,  and  use  what  restoratives  they  had  hi  the  house,  he  set 
off  to  give  the  alarm  at  Ben  Lomond. 

Miss  Barbara  was  the  earliest  of  Malcolm's  household  on  the 
spot.  She  wasted,  no  time  in  lamentations,  but,  aided  by  J 
went  diligently  about  the  fearfully  uncertain  task  of  recalling  life 
to  a  form  it  seemed  to  have  deserted  for  ever.  A  gasp,  changing 
to  a  groan,  broke  from  the  wounded  lad,  as  his  father  entered  the 
room.  The  haughty  man  stood  aghast  at  the  unearthly  sound,  and 
endeavored  vainly  to  speak. 

"  He  is  reviving,  sir,"  said  Mark,  answerng  the  agonized  look 


88  NEMESIS. 

that  appealed  to  him.  "  He  has  not  moved  or  spoken,  until  thii 
instant.  I  hope  that  his  injury  is  less  serious  than  we  feared." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  how  is  he  ?"  cried  Miss  Argyle,  rushing  into 
the  room.  "  Good  Heavens  1  is  he  killed  ?"  she  screamed,  as  she 
beheld  the  pale  and  bloody  lineaments  of  her  brother. 

"  Back  !"  Miss  Barbara  pushed  her  away  from  the  bed, 
"  He  is  not  dead,  but  he  will  be,  soon,  if  you  keep  up  that  racket 
There  are  enough  of  you  in  here  to  smother  him.  Mr.  Hale,  take 
her  into  the  other  room,  and  everybody  else,  except  your  wife  ; 
she's  of  some  use." 

"  I  think  we  had  better  go,  indeed,  sir,"  said  Mark,  very 
respectfully,  to  Mr.  Argyle.  "  The  place  is  small,  and  we  crowd 
it ;  he  needs  all  the  air  he  can  get,  and  Miss  Brook  will  attend 
to  everything  that  can  be  done,  until  the  doctor  comes." 

The  father  assented  by  a  nod,  and  turned  to  go  ; .  but  another 
hollow  groan'  sent  a  shudder  through  his  frame,  and  he  staggered. 
Mark  caught  him — almost  carried  him  into  the  outer  apartment 
and  placed  him  in  a  chair.  A  glass  of  water  dispelled  the  faint- 
ness,  but  he  was  completely  unnerved.  He  grasped  the  toil- 
hardened  hand  of  the  man  whose  shoulder  supported  him,  and 
burst  into  tears.  Mark's  own  heart  was  ready  to  break.  He 
could  only  return  the  pressure,  and  stood,  looking  down  upon  the 
afflicted  parent,  with  an  expression  of  sincere  and  tender  sympa- 
thy. Eleanor  wandered  about  the  room,  weeping  and  wringing 
her  hands,  watching  at  window  and  door,  and  wishing  aloud  that 
the  doctor  would  come.  He  arrived  sooner  than  they  had  any 
reason  to  expect  him  ;  one  of  the  dozen  messengers  dispatched  in 
search  of  him,  having  overtaken  him  but  two  miles  away. 

His  report  did  not  quiet  the  terrible  suspense  that  oppressed 
the  waiting  hearts,  hanging  upon  his  verdict.  It  was  impossible, 
at  present,  to  ascertain  the  nature  and  extent  "of  his  injuries,  h« 
Baid,  guardedly.  Miss  Brook  and  himself  would  watch  witi 
him,  during  the  night,  and  no  one  else  must  enter  the  room 


NEMESIS.  89 

"  You'd  better  go  home  !"  said  Miss  Barbara  to  Eleanor 

Bessy  was  grieved  and  surprised  at  her  sharp  tone.  It  wa» 
cruel  to  scold  the  poor  sister,  in  the  height  of  her  distress. 

"It  is  a  pity  to  send  her  away,"  she  whispered. 

She  might  as  well  have  held  her  peace. 

"  You  are  of  no  earthly  account  here,"  continued  the  inexo- 
rable housekeeper.  "  If  you  want  to  help,  send  Sarah  to  me. 
There  are  fifty  things  she  must  look  after."  In  a  gentler 
manner,  she  addressed  Mr.  Argyle.  "There's  no  danger  just 
now,  sir,  and  I  will  let  you  know  if  there's  ^  the  least  change  in 
the  night.  Better  go  home  and  rest,  if  you  can.  There  is  no 
accommodations  here  for  you,  you  see,  and  if  there  was,  you 
couldn't  do  any  good  by  staying.  There's  the  carriage  now,  sir. 
Keep  up  a  brave  heart.  The  Lord  may  bring  him  through,  safe 
and  sound,  yet." 

Mr.  Argyle  submitted  with  surprising  meekness,  and  Eleanor, 
too,  obeyed  the  order  so  peremptorily  delivered.  They  felt, 
instinctively,  that  the  authority  was  not  to  be  disputed,  and 
anxiety,  for  the  time,  swallowed  up  pride. 

"  Barbara,"  said  the  shaking  voice  of  the  old  man,  from  th« 
carriage. 

"  All  right,  sir  !     Here  I  am." 

"  Take  care  of  my  boy — for — his — mother's — sake  I" 

"  Xever  fear,  sir  !  He's  my  child,  too  I"  with  an  answering 
tremor  in  the  words. 

Not  until  they  had  driven  away,  and  Dr.  Chase  was  closeted 
with  Miss  Barbara  in  the  sick-chamber,  did  Bessy  have  oppor- 
tunity to  see  after  her  child.  She  had  been  overlooked  in  the 
universal  excitement,  and  the  mother's  search  for  her  in  the  lower 
rooms  and  the  loft,  whither  she  fancied  she  might  have  crept,  waa 
fruitless.  Mark  had  gone  to  Ben  Lomond  on  an  errand  for  Mis* 
•  Barbara,  and  Bessy,  now  really  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  hei 
iarling,  must  yet  be  noiseless  in  her  quest.  It  was  starlight 


50       •  NEMESIS. 

but  she  groped,  rather  than  saw  her  way,  in  the  dense  shade  of 
trees,  calling  softly  for  the  lost  one,  when  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  house.  A  mew  and  a  purr  saluted  her  as  she  stole  by  the 
back  door,  leading  from  Malcolm's  chamber,  and  she  perceived 
some  object  lying  near  the  steps.  A  touch  informed  her  that  il 
was  what  she  sought.  The  child  was  extended  on  the  ground, 
face  downward,  and  so  still,  that  but  for  the  signal-  of  her  dumb 
friend,  the  mother's  solicitous  eyes  would  not  have  discovered  her. 
She  struggled  feebly,  as  she  was  taken  up,  but  a  word  of  caution 
stilled  her. 

Bessy  carried  her  into  the  kitchen,  and  set  her  upon  her  lap. 
The  light  revealed  the  rounded  contour  of  a  child's  face,  with  the 
anguish  of  womanhood  fixed  in  each  feature.  The  contracted 
forehead,  the  wild  eye  and  drawn  mouth  were  terrible  for  the 
mother  to  look  upon.  Her  fond  kiss  could  not  alter  their  expres- 
sion, or  elicit  a  word  of  response  to  her  inquiries.  The  small 
hands  were  streaked  with  dark-red  stains  and  soiled  with  mould, 
and  her  dress  bore  similar  marks  of  her  late  adventure.  Bessy's 
instinct  of  neatness  was  never  dormant.  Fetching  a  basin  of 
water,  she  washed  off  the  dirt,  and  brushed  out  the  matted  curls, 
talking  all  the  while  in  soft,  soothing  tones. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  frighten  my  little  girl  now.  Poor  Mr. 
Malcolm  has  gone  to  sleep,  and  will  be  better  to-morrow,  we 
hope.  Mamma  will  give  Kitty  some  supper,  and  presently,  papa 
will  bring  a  bed  from  Mr.  Argyle's  for  us  to  sleep  on  in  here. 
We  cannot  go  into  our  chamber  to-night,  for  the  doctor  sayg 
everything  must  be  very  quiet,  or  Mr.  Malcolm  may  gel 
worse." 

Kitty  appeared  to  drink  in  every  syllable;  but  her  eye  wan- 
dered constantly  to  the  closed  door  of  the  other  room,  and  her 
silence  awoke  her  mother's  most  fearful  apprehensions.  Had  the 
shock  struck  her  dumb — or  worse — deprived  her  of  reason  ?  She 
caught  her  to  her  heart  convulsively,  at  the  suggestion ;  then  put 


NEMESIS.  0  i 

hei  dowi,  and  unlatching  the  middle  door,  beckoned  haatily  t4 
the  doctor.  He  obeyed  on  the  instant;  but  looked  fretted  when 
ho  saw  that  the  kitchen  had  but  two  occupants. 

'•  What  ?''  asked  he,  abruptly;  "  I  can't  stay  a  minute  !" 

Mastering  herself  as  well  as  she  could,  Bessy  represented  the 
case  according  to  her  comprehension  of  it. 

"  Humph  !  she's  either  frightened  or  sulky  ;  or,  more  likely 
than  eitner,  pretending  to  be  unable  to  speak,"  he  said,  drawing 
Kitty  to  him.  "  What  ails  you,  young  one  ?  I  reckon  youl 
mother  could  find  a  way  to  make  you  speak,  if  she  chose. 
You've  heard  of  such  things  as  switches — haven't  you  !" 

"  Don't  be  cross  with  her.  She  is  not  used  to  it !"  interposed 
Be>sy,  reddening  with  suppressed  auger  at  this  rough  treatment. 
"  She  is  frightened  almost  to  death  now." 

"  Very  well  !  If  you  can  manage  the  case  better  than  I  can, 
you  do  not  need  me  any  longer,"  returned  Dr.  Chase,  coolly. 
And,  without  another  word,  he  walked  back  to  his  former  post, 
by  the  pillow  of  his  slumbering  patient. 

Bessy  was  holding  the  speechless,  shivering  child  in  her  arms, 
her  own  fast-dropping  tears  bedewing  the  rigid  face,  when  Misa 
Barbara  appeared.  A  very  few  sentences  of  explanation  sufficed 
for  her. 

"  Jest  like  him  !  The  unfeeling  brute .!"  she  ejaculated.  "  I'll 
be  bound  I  can  get  something  out  of  him,  or  out  of  his  saddle 
bags,  that  will  do  her  good.  Jest  wait  here  two  seconds." 

Her  mode  of  dealing  with  the  "  brute  "  was  probably  as  sum 
uiary  as  she  had  threatened;  for  she  was  out  again  presently  witL 
a  phial  in  her  hand. 

'•'  The  money-worshipping  hypocrite  !"  she  continued  to  berate 
him,  as  she  dropped  the  anodyne.  "  He  was  afraid  to  snub  me, 
because  I  might  tell  tales  to  those  that  can  pay  him  well.  Be* 
tween  him  and  Sancroft,  there'd  be  no  poor  people  left  in  the 
land  if  thev  had  their  way.  Thank  goodness  they  haven't  J 


92  NEMESIS. 

When  it  comes  to  that  jest  let  me  know,  and  I'll  leave,  without 
being  invited  out — I'm  obliged  to  you  !" 

Bessy  heard  these  niutterings,  not  knowing  that  she  did  BO, 
until  they  were  recollected  some  months  later. 

With  an  unnecessary  parting  shake  of  the  bottle,  Miss  Barbara 
clutched  the  spoon  savagely,  and  came  toward  Kitty. 

"  Now,  Mousey  " — assuming  the  most  coaxing  air  and  modula- 
tions, of  which  countenance  and  voice  were  susceptible — "you 
will  take  this,  like  a  sweet  baby,  and  go  to  sleep  in  mamma's 
arms — or  in  your  own  pretty  little  crib.  You'd  rather  have  that, 
hadn't  you  ?" 

The  child  did  not  offer  to  open  her  mouth,  and  answered  by  a 
vacant  stare. 

"  Kitty  will  be  sick,  if  she  does  not  swallow  the  medicine," 
argued  Bessy,  tremulously.  "  Oh  !  if  Mark  would  only  come 
home  !  She  always  minds  him." 

"  She  will  do  it  to  please  Aunt  Barbara — won't  yon,  Mousey  ? 
Why,  what  will  I  do,  if  you  don't  get  a  nice  long  nap,  and  ain't 
well  enough  by  morning,  to  help  me  nurse  Mr.  Malcolm  ?  There, 
I  told  you  so  !  It  is  gone — every  drop  !'  That's  the  best  child 
in  the  land — and  I've  always  stuck  to  it !  Now,  Mrs.  Hale,  slip 
on  her  night-gown,  and  I'll  lift  in  her  crib.  I  can  do  it  without 
a  mite  of  noise." 

She  accomplished  the  feat  in  defiance  of  the  doctc/'s  whispered 
remonstrances. 

"  I  will  not  be  answerable  for  the  consequences,"  he  said,  when 
bhe  motioned  to  him  to  let  her  pass. 

"  Nobody  wants  you  to  be  I"  puffed  she,  pushing  on  with  her 
burden. 

Kitty  was  laid,  unresisting,  in  her  bed.  Miss  Barbara  tucked 
the  coverlet  around  her,  and  kissed  her.  The  child's  arms  were 
about  her  neck,  when  she  would  have  arisen.  The  poor  littlt 
face  worked  painfully. 


K  M  E  8  1  8  .  93 


"  "W  hat  is  it,  my  baby  ?"  asked  the  pitying  spinster. 

"  /  made  his  horse  throw  him  1"  broke  forth  in  an  hysterical 
shriek,  that  caused  Dr.  Chase  to  intrude  his  head  and  a  caustic 
reprimand. 

"  You  wasn't  called  "  snapped  Miss  Barbara  ;  and  at  this  shot 
be  retreated. 

"  What  does  she  mean  ?"  wondered  Bessy. 

"  Xever  mind,  now  !  There  !  there  !  don't  cry  loud,  dear,  oi 
you'll  disturb  Mr.  Malcolm.  You  wouldn't  do  that  for  anything, 
you  know." 

"  No,  ma'am." 

Kitty  smothered  her  sobs,  and  the  tears  streamed,  healthfully. 

"  I  'spose  the  horse  jumped  to  one  side,  and  threw  Mr.  Mal- 
colm, when  he  saw  you  in  the  road.  That  was  the  way  of  it — 
wasn't  it,  Mousey  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  But  I  didn't  meau  to  scare  him  !  0,  dear," 
she  sobbed. 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  we  know  that,  baby.  It  was  all  the  horse's  fault 
—not  a  bit  of  it  yours.  He  would  have  behaved  just  as  badly  if 
you  had  been  a  stump  or  a  rock.  I've  seen  him  do  it,  tune  and 
time  again.  He's  au  ugly,  vicious  creatur',  that  no  man  in  liis 
\vould  ride,  without  he  was  one  of  your  dare-everythiug, 
afraid-of-nothing  sort — like  the  dear  fellow  in  there." 

She  sighed,  but  covered  it  with  a  smile,  seeing  that  Kitty's  eye 
was  upon  her. 

"  So,  you  see,  it  couldn't  be  helped,  dear.  Xow,  pray  to  God 
that  he  may  get  well,  and  when  you  wake  up,  maybe  he'll  be 
able  to  tell  you  that  he  knows  you  were  not  to  blame,  and  that 
be  loves  his  little  '  Kitty  Puss,'  as  much  as  ever  he  did." 


5'  I  NEMESIS. 


CHAPTER  VII 

IT  was  a  tryirg  season  of  waiting  and  watching  thi.t  e'apsed 
before  the  wounded  youth  could  give  the  assurance  ot  forgiveness 
•nd  affection  to  the  heart  that  ached  so  remorsefully.  For  ten 
days,  there  existed  a  strong  probability  that  the  male  succession 
of  the  honorable  house  of  Argyle  would  cease  with  him  who  was 
now  owner  of  the  name  and  estate.  For  ten  days  and  nights,  Miss 
Barbara  stood  guard  above  her  boy,  refusing  all  relief,  except 
that  of  an  hour's  sleep,  when  he  was  comparatively  composed,  and 
then  she  would  resign  in  favor  of  no  one  but  Bessy.  They  two 
watched  sadly  and  eagerly  on  one  side  of  his  bed — Death,  hun- 
grily upon  the  other.  For  ten  days,  the  laird's  restless  wander- 
ings over  house  and  plantation,  were  with  an  uncertain  step  and 
haggard  face,  and  an  unwonted  abstinence  from  fault-finding.  It 
mattered  little — so  said  his  aspect — a  few  pounds  more  or  less, 
when  he,  who  he  had  intended  should  inherit  all  his  hoards,  might 
never  again  set  foot  upon  the  broad  acres  or  handle  the  bright 
gold.  _  For  ten  days,  the  sisters  Eleanor  and  Jessie  rode  twice 
daily  to  the  shoemaker's  cottage,  and  returned  in  tears  and  terror, 
from  the  bedside  of  their  late  robust  and  merry  brother,  to  mope 
away  the  hours  in  vain  endeavors  to  forget  or  disbelieve  the  dan- 
ger that  had  scared  the  gay  birds  from  Ben  Lomond,  and  put  a 
stop  to  their  schemes  and  thoughts  of  pleasure.  For  ten  days, 
Marcia  Selden  gazed,  with  heart-beats  thick  and  fast,  for  the 
messenger  whose  regular  duty  it  was  to  bring  intelligence  from 
the  sick-room,  and  hated,  as  fervently  as  it  was  in  her  nature  to 


NEMESIS.  95 

Aatc  anything,  the  stern  law  of  propriety,  that  banished  her  from 
her  '^oy-lover's  side. 

Then  there  was  a  change — it  might  be  for  better,  it  might  be 
for  worse  ;  and  in  the  hour  of  agonized  suspense,  the  father  knelt 
by  the  pillow  of  his  unconscious  son,  and  prayed  aloud  to  the 
mother's  God,  that  this  cup  might  not  be  given  him  to  drink. 
And,  when  removed  from  the  apartment,  he  besought  Mark,  the 
"  low-born  mechanic,"  to  pray  with  him  and  for  him,  that  the 
boon  might  not  be  denied.  It  was  granted.  To  Nature,  and 
to  her  unwearied  assistants,  the  Lord  of  life  gave  the  victory. 

But  the  work  was  not  done  with  the  rescue  of  the  sick  one 
from  present  and  apparent  danger.  He  was  still  to  lie  for  tedious 
hours  and  days  in  that  humble  room,  watching,  with  a  conva- 
lescent's listless  amusement,  the  light  sifting  through  the  lattice 
of  morning-glories  ;  the  hollyhocks,  thrusting  their  heads  between 
the  leaves,  like  bold,  curious  women,  with  flaunting  hoods  and 
shameless  faces  ;  the  stray  flies,  that,  having  no  fear  of  Miss  J3ar- 
bara's  peacock  plumes  before  their  eyes,  crawled  busily,  and 
gossipped  sociably  upon  the  beams  and  boards  that  supplied  the 
place  of  a  ceiling  ;  the  slow,  gentle  oscillations  of  the  green  and 
blue  feathers,  and  the  form  and  face  of  her  who  waved  them. 
Until  noon,  Miss  Barbara  usually  presided  as  chief  nurse  ;  but 
household  concerns  at  Ben  Lomond  required  her  supervision,  and 
were  not  neglected  after  she  could  reconcile  it  with  conscience  and 
feeling,  to  leave  her  charge  for  a  part  of  each  day.  Thus,  it  came 
to  pass,  that  when  he  awoke  from  the  noon-day  nap,  now  as 
habitual  with  him  as  it  had  been  in  infancy,  he  found  in  the  stead 
cf  the  homely,  yet  beloved  visage  that  had  met  his  closing  eyo. 
the  younger  and  more  comely  countenance  of  his  hostess.  In  hip 
weakness,  he  learned  to  love  her  gentle  ministrations  and  affec- 
tionate demeanor.  Every  hour's  observation  enhanced  his  heart 
felt  respect  for  the  interesting  pair  into  whose  care  lie  had  beeu 
thrown.  All  that  he  had  heard  and  read  of  virtue  in  the  homea 


96  NEMESIS. 

of  tbo  /  wly  ;  of  gems,  that  shone  the  purer  for  the  poverty  ol  their 
settin/;  ;  of  the  honor  belonging,  by  conquest,  to  the  self-made 
man,  j  ire  had  its  exemplification,  and,  heightened  by  the  roraantit 
colorirg  of  youthful  fancy,  was  a  source  of  liveliest  pleasure. 

He  was  forbidden  to  converse,  in  his  extreme  weakness,  but  hii 
tye  and  smile  were  ready  and  eloquent  interpreters  of  thought. 
It  was  an  era  in  Kitty's  history — the  day  she  was  admitted  to 
his  chamber.  Her  mother  had  cautioned  her  to  be  very  still  und 
to  remain  only  a  minute.  Malcolm's  blue  eyes  danced  when  she 
entered,  trembling  all  over  with  excitement,  delight  and  bashful- 
ness. 

"  Kitty  I"  he  said,  feebly. 

Miss  Barbara's  finger  was  up,  and  he  was  mute,  but  motioned 
to  her  to  hold  the  child  down  to  him,  that  he  might  kiss  hoi- 
Then  he  passed  his  long  thin  fingers  over  her  curls,  and  smiled 
sadly,  as  he  laid  his  wasted  hand  beside  her  pink  and  dimpled 
one. 

After  that,  he  would  have  her  pay  him  a  visit,  both  morning 
and  afternoon,  and  stay  longer  each  time,  until  she  was  promoted 
to  the  dignity  of  fanning  him  and  keeping  the  flies  away.  It  was 
a  joy  to  both,  when  leave  was  granted  for  him  to  amuse  himself 
with  her  prattle,  a  recreation  which  the  prudent  sub-nurse  was 
watchful  should  never  grow  wearisome  in  length.  Kitty  was  a 
vivacious  and  loving  creature,  and  Malcolm  must  have  become 
fond  of  her,  had  he  been  rich  in  other  objects  of  affection,  which 
was  far  from  being  the  case.  Nothing  with  relation  to  their 
landlord's  famfly  impressed  Bessy  more  disagreeably  than  the 
evident  lack  of  concord  ;  the  absence  of  all  bonds  of  mutual  sym- 
pathy. She  saw  clearly  that  the  attentions  his  sisters  wouM 
have  rendered  Malcolm,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  were 
distasteful  to  him.  He  was  even  peevish,  if  they  were  persistent 
in  their  offers  of  service,  and  at  length,  having,  one  day,  fretted 
through  a  call  of  extraordinary  duration  from  the  two.  lie  told 


NEMESIS  9? 

Miss  Barbara  flatly,  in  Bessy's  hearing,  that  they  -  teazed  him 
almost  out  of  his  senses  and  quite  out  of  all  patience  ;"  that  the 
rustle  of  starch  and  silk  offended  his  nerves  of  hearing  ;  theii 
French  perfumes  and  pomatum  iiauseated  him,  and-  their  ringed 
fingers  hurt  his  head,  when  they  bathed  it. 

With  commendable  gravity,  Miss  Barbara  hearkened  to  this 
list  of  grievances,  and  engaged  that  none  of  them  should  torment 
bun  oftener  than  a  show  of  decent  respect  for  his  relatives 
required  it;  and  what  she  promised,  she  performed. 

But  the  elements  of  pride  and  contempt  for  whatever  was 
socially  inferior  to  themselves,  which  had  been  quelled  in  the 
Argyle  circle  by  the  shadow  of  Death,  the  leveller,  reviving  with 
the  retirement  of  the  Terror,  secretly,  but  surely  plotted  the 
destruction  of  the  peace  in  which  Malcolm  revelled.  Their  first 
ebullition  was  in  the  regrets  expressed  by  Miss  Argyle  to  her 
father,  that  Malcolm  had  not  been  brought  home  immediately 
upon  the  occurrence  of  the  accident.  It  was  not  much  further, 
she  said,  and  the  least  sense  of  propriety  would  have  sufficed  to 
dictate  this  course.  Perhaps  "  those  people  "  had  not  thought  of 
this.  It  was  unreasonable  to  expect  delicacy  of  thought  or 
behavior  from  them.  It  was  natural,  and  therefore  the  more 
pardonable  in  them,  to  seize  upon  this  providential  opportunity 
of  intercourse  with  those  above  them.  It  reflected  a  sort  of  honor 
upon  them ;  no  doubt  secured  them  distinction  in  their  class,  to 
have  Mr.  Argyle's  son  under  their  roof,  for  such  a  long  tune — 
and  then  the  remuneration  they  were  expecting — in  plain  terms, 
thtfir  pay  for  boarding  and  tending  hue,  was  a  consideration  to 
persons  in  their  circumstances. 

Her  last  hit  told,  if  the  rest  had  fallen  short  of  the  mark.  A 
ntab  iu  the  region  of  her  father's  pocket-nerve,  would  quicken  hia 
sensibilities,  when  nothing  else  would. 

"  The  choice  of  a  hospital  was  none  of  mine,"  he  said,  stiffly, 
"  antf  they  have  no  right  to  make  out  any  bill  whatever.  I  have 

5 


yy  NEMESIS. 

endured  more  inconvenience  in  consequence  t>f  his  being  there, 
than  they  can  possibly  have  experienced.  And,  as  to  nursing — 
what  are  you  thinking  of,  Eleanor  ?  Has  not  Barbara  been 
there,  from  the  hour  of  his  accident  ?  Have  not  I  supplied  a 
bed,  in  place  of  the  one  Malcolm  occupies  ;  and  do  you  sup- 
pose that  a  sick  man  can  devour  one-third  of  the  provisions 
Sarah  carries  down,  every  morning,  by  Barbara's  orders  ?  No  1 
if  the  truth  were  known,  I  have  supported  the  whole  family,  and 
had  nothing  in  return,  except  anxiety  and  fatigue.  I  will  offer 
them  a — ahem  !  something  by  way  of  a  present,  when  Malcolm 
comes  away ;  but  if  a  regular  account  is  presented,  I  shall  hand  it 
over  to  Saucroft,  and  order  him  to  dispute  it  as  sure  as  my  name 
is  Argyle  1" 

This  affirmation  had,  with  him,  all  the  sense  of  an  oath 

Miss  Jessie  giggled.  "Isn't  it  funny  that  Malcolm,  out 
brother,  should  be  sick  in  such  a  place  ?  A  log-house,  with  two 
rooms,  and  no  ceiling,  and  a  shoemaker's  sign  over  the  door  !  I 
declare,/!  have  killed  myself  twenty  tunes,  laughing  at  the  idea." 

Her  father  was  red  to  the  roots  of  his  powdered  hair.  As  was 
his  custom,  if  the  expression  of  his  feelings  would  betray  him  into 
intemperate  speech,  and  thereby  endanger  his  dignity,  he  pursed 
his  mouth  tightly,  and,  grasping  his  cane,  stalked  out  of  the  apart- 
ment. Miss  Eleanor  nodded  satisfiedly  at  her  sister,  who  laughed, 
as  she  lay  back  upon  the  sofa. 

She  was  a  blonde,  with  a  wide,  low  brow,  so  smooth  and  white, 
A  seemed,  as  if  care  and  anger  would  never  find  there  a  resting- 
place;  light-blue  eyes,  alternately  laughing  and  indolent;  pouting 
coral  lips,  and  within  them  a  set  of  even  teeth,  she  liked  to  dis- 
play. Her  head  was  a  mop  of  yellow  curls,  golden,  as  her 
admirers  declared,  and  they  lauded  them  on  the  stage,  as  heartily 
as  her  maid,  behind  the  scenes,  hated  them.  Well  she  might  — 
poor  girl !  for  Jessie's  characteristic  was  laziness.  She  had  been 
a  delicate  infant  and  child,  and  although  now  in  perfect  health, 


NEMESIS.  99 

Would  not.  oi  could  not,  relinquish  the  habits  then  formed.  At 
school,  she  was  a  dunce;  in  her  family,  a  nonentity;  in  society,  a 
belle.  To  maintain  the  reputation  of  the  latter,  she  was  willing 
to  make  others  work,  if  not  to  exert  herself.  Ursula,  the  ill-fated 
maid,  who,  for  unknown  ancestral  iniquities,  had  been  appropriated, 
from  her  birth  to  Miss  Jessie's  service,  glowered  at  all  gentlemen 
visitors  to  the  house,  as  abettors,  with  malice  prepense,  of  her 
torture  and  toils.  She  would  have  parted  with  half  of  her  own 
prospects  of  a  husband  (and  she  loved  adulation  no  less  than  did 
her  mistress),  if  by  so  doing  she  could  win  assurance  that  Miss 
Jessie  would  never  hear  another  compliment  to  her  figure,  feature, 
complexion — above  all,  to  her  hair.  The  sole  excitement  of 
Jessie's  private  hours — always  excepting  the  pleasurable  duty  of 
surveying  herself  in  the  mirror — was  novel-reading  ;  and  this 
draught  was  sipped  with  such  moderation,  that  a  three  volume 
octavo  was  entertainment  for  the  same  number  of  months.  The 
much-tried  Abigail  detested  the  well-thumbed  book  as  cordially 
as  she  did  the  tangled  curls,  since  its  appearance  was  the 
invariable  prelude  to  a  summons  to  the  toilet-table.  And  while 
Miss  Jessie  dreamed  over  "  Pamela,"  or  "  Clarissa,"  or  that  new 
and  fascinating  romance,  "  The  Children  of  the  Abbey," — the 
"  moral  tales,"  recommended  as  safe  and  instructive  by  our  grand 
mothers,  for  the  perusal  of  their  young  daughters — the  luckless 
hair-dresser  plied  the  comb  and  brush  upon  the  tresses  dishevelled 
oy  the  wind,  or  tumbled  and  matted  by  lying — reclining,  Miss 
Jessie  had  it — in  an  easy  chair,  when  there  was  no  company  by 
to  stimulate  her  to  a  sitting  posture.  The  operation  was  difficult 
ind  hazardous,  moreover,  for  the  amiable  victim  could  not  bear 
the  twitching  of  a  bail*.  A  refractory  ringlet,  resisting  all  the 
Influences  of  soap,  water  and  pomatum,  to  wheedle  it  into  the 
right  shape  and  tier,  would  bring  on  a  fit  of  svlks,  which  lasted 
lutil — a  beau  alighted  at  the  gate. 
/'Such  was  the  appearance,  ind  like  unto  these,  were  the  ways  of 


100  NEMESIS. 

Miss  Jessie  .Argyle  as  she  sank  into  her  utcustoraed  place  an<l 
Attitude,  upon  the  withdrawal  of  her  father.  Her  sister's  signal 
informed  her  that  things  boded  success  to  their  harmless  plan  for 
estranging  one  of  their  noble  line  from  the  presumptuous  vulgar 
lans,  whose  growing  influence  over  him  they  detected  and  resented 
as  it  deserved  to  be  treated. 

Eleanor  sat  by  the  window  that  looked  down  the  road.  She 
rvas  watching  the  gig,  which,  at  that  hour,  every  morning,  was 
brought  to  the  gate  for  Mr.  Argyle's  visit  to  his  son.  She  was 
in  her  nineteenth  year  ;  of  a  proud  order  of  beauty  ;  in  disposi- 
tion, recklessly  selfish  ;  in  temper,  arrogant  and  daring.  As  her 
brother  once  bitterly  described  her  to  herself,  her  "  heart  was  a 
witches'  caldron,  in  which  the  quintessence  of  the  family  pride 
and  craftiness,  with  a  spice  of  lesser  vices — meannesses  and  the 
like- -was  boiled  down,  until  nothing  on  earth  or  in  heaven  could 
endure  the  fumes." 

The  lad  was  addicted  to  hasty  and  indiscriminating  reprobation 
;f  whatever  irked  him  ;  and  Eleanor  could  afford  to  smile  disdain- 
fully at  this  philippic,  remembering  that  there  were  scores  of 
worldlings,  who  contended  for  the  honor  of  her  approval,  and 
shrunk  from  the  frowns  she  was  more  chary  of  in  public,  than  iu 
her  home.  She  was  virtual  mistress  of  Argyle  ;  or  she  would 
have  been,  but  for  two  stumbling-blocks,  that  warned  hei 
triumphal  car  to  take  another  route,  when  she  would  have  ridden 
them  down  with  the  rest  of  her  slaves.  These  were  Miss  Bar- 
bara, the  faithful  nurse  and  stewardess,  whom  years  of  efficient 
i«fviee  had  made  indispensable  in  the  establishment  ;  and  the 
joung  brother,  the  future  lord  of  the  homestead  and  soil,  whc 
neither  feared  her  wrath  nor  succumbed  to  her  arts,  and  over 
Rrhom  she  was  never  able  to  gain  one  atom  more  of  influence  than 
Was  possessed  by  the  sister  whose  inertness  of  miiid  and  body  she 
despised. 

The  captious  critic,  who,  in  his  dissection  of  certain  Jramatii 


NEMESIS.  101 


sketched  by  us  in  other  days  and  otliei  books,  clearly 
proved  our  creations  sui  generis  —  monsters  of  wickedness,  so  un- 
like real  men  and  women,  that  the  pretentious,  portraiture  could 
only  be  accepted  as  just  by  children,  whc  believe  in  ogres  and 
vampires  ;  or  sneered  at  others,  where  we  essayed  to  use  the 
lighter  colors  —  ns  angelic  hybrids  ;  even  this  dreaded  arbiter  of 
our  fate,  as  a  limner,  will  suspend  his  scalpel,  in  its  swift  descent 
upon  the  character  we  have  just  depicted,  when  he  hears  our 
excuse  for  its  infidelity  to  nature. 

Our  plea  is  the  progress  of  the  human  race.  We  know  —  (not 
quite  as  well,  indeed,  as  does  the  above-deprecated  critic  —  but 
what  do  we  understand  as  thoroughly  ?)  but  we  are  partially 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  there  are  no  women  like  Eleanor 
Argyle,  in  these  millennial  days,  upon  which  we  have  fallen.  A 
girl  of  our  generation,  if  deprived  of  her  mother  when  eight  years 
old,  intrusted  to  the  guardianship  of  a  father  weak  in  everything 
except  vanity  of  personal  consequence  and  love  of  gain;  her  early 
education  intrusted  to  a  •woman  who,  however  good  in  intention, 
wanted  the  prestige  of  equal  birth  and  station  to  enforce  her  rule; 
surrounded  by  hordes  of  servile  dependents,  who  cajoled  and  flat- 
tered to  avoid  her  displeasure,  and  ingratiate  themselves  in  her 
favor  ;  who  should  be  sent  in  the  third  year  of  her  orphanage, 
to  school,  and  passed  from  one  instructor  to  another,  until 
Madame  Fiuissez's  lubrication  consummated  her  polish  —  would 
"  turn  out  "  quite  differently  from  the  personage  we  have  de- 
scribed. We  surrender,  without  the  struggle  of  an  opinion  to  the 
contrary,  to  the  assertion  that  she  would  have  many  redeeming 
traits  to  offset  the  undeniable  defects  in  her  rearing  ;  that  she 
might  be  high-spirited  —  admitting  this  to  be  the  natural  turn  of 
her  disposition,  but  frank,  generous  and  loving.  We  do  not 
insinuate  that  the  latest  date  of  demoniacal  possession  was  not  agei. 
ago  ;  before  our  memory,  and  that  of  our  reviewer;  and  we  trust 
Jhat  our  good-breeding;  if  not  our  reason,  would  prevent  the 


102  NEMESIS. 

remotest  hint --the  faintest  breath  oi'  a  suspicion — that  the  pre 
sent  tense,  which  asserts  the  heart  to  be  "deceitful  above  all 
things,  and  desperately  wicked,"  can  have  any  application  to 
"society,"  and  this,  our  Anno  Domini. 

But  we  are  writing  of  old  times  ;  the  "  former  days,"  which,, 
whatever  Solomon  meant  when  he  dissuaded  inquiry  on  that  head. 
our  philanthropic  students  of  their  race's  history  agree  in  pro- 
nouncing, unqualifiedly,  were  not  "  better  than  these."  To  silence 
all  cavils,  we  may  as  well  state  here,  that  in  that  far  Long  Ago, 
depraved  men  and  heartless,  unprincipled  women  did  exist ;  and 
that  we  have  this  fact  set  down  in  the  handwriting,  and  under 
the  seal  of  those  who  were  the  respectable  contemporaries  of  a 
class  of  beings,  happily  now  extinct. 

"There  is  Mr.  Selden's  carriage  coming  in  at  our  gate  I"  sud- 
denly exclaimed  Eleanor. 

Mr.  Selden  had  no  grown  sons,  and  Jessie  yawned  in  making 
the  inquiry — "  Who  is  in  it  ?" 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Jessie  !  How  can  I  tell,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  off?" 

"Oh  !"  and  she  prepared  to  rest  contentedly,  with  drooping 
lids,  until  the  carriage  should  be  within  easy  reach  of  Eleanor's 
optics. 

"  I  hope  it  is  Marcia,"  resumed  the  elder  sister,  still  scanning 
the  equipage. 

"  Do  you  ?"  asked  Jessie,  sleepily.  She  aroused  herself  to  add, 
"  she  is  here  pretty  often,  considering  Malcolm  is  not  at  home 
It's  funny,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  It  would  be  strange,  or  '  funny,'  as  you  say,  if  she  were  to 
visit  here  much,  when  he  is  at  home.  It  is  reported  everywhere 
that  they  are  either  engaged,  or  that  they  will  be  soon,  and  it 
leould  be  said  directly  that  she  is  courting  him." 

"  I  wonder  if  they  will  ever  be  married,"  speculated  Jessie. 

"  It  is  generally  supposed  that  engaged  people  hare  some  sucb 


N  E  M  K  8  I  8  .  10S 

Intention.    Malcolm  could  not  do  better,  in  this  county,  at  least. 
Mr.  Selden  will  leave  all  his  children  wealthy." 

"  And  at  pa's  death  Ben  Lomond  goes  to  Malcolm.  Thej 
are  very  young  and  nay  change  their  minds.  It  would  be  a 
ahame,  when  they  suit  so  well,  and  would  have  enough  to  UFP 
npou,"  mused  Jessie. 

She  was  prone  to  the  delivery  of  commonplaces,  in  the  trance- 
like  state  that  wrapped  her  now,  her  azure  orbs  misty,  and  her 
utterance  muffled  and  drawling. 

"  If  you  ever  get  a  tenth  as  much,  you  will  have  to  be  more 
brisk  and  less  silly  than  I  have  ever  seen  you,"  said  Eleanor, 
angrily  ;  "  your  affectation  is  insufferable,  Jessie." 

Jessie  laughed,  without  stirring.  "  Is  not  that  carriage  almost 
here  ?  I  think  your  friend,  Marcia,  would  enjoy  our  conversation 
I  don't  believe  she  knows  what  pleasant  sisters-in-law  we  will  be. 
How  do  you  keep  on  the  right  side  of  her,  Nelly  ?  And  Mal- 
colm is  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  you,  too  !  Isn't  it  funny 
that  he  doesn't  tell  tales  out  of  school  1" 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !"  cried  Eleanor,  running  down  the 
steps  to  meet  her  friend.  "  My  dear  Marcia  1  what  a  delightful 
surprise  this  is.  This  day  seems  destined  to  bring  pleasures.  We 
have  the  most  encouraging  news  from  Malcolm,  tliis  morning 
The  doctor  says  he  may  be  removed  home  next  week.  Now,  you 
have  come  to  spend  the  day  with  me,  haven't  you  ?  and  I  am  the 
happiest  girl  living." 

"  How  is  Jessie  ?"  asked  Marcia,  her  happy  face  indicative  of 
fcor  emotion  at  the  receipt  of  Eleanor's  apparently  inadvertent 
communication  touching  her  brother. 

"  Jessie,  here  she  is  I  in  the  drawing-room.  She  has  been 
asleep,  I  think.  The  poor,  dear  girl  is  worn  out  with  anxiety 
and  loss  of  rest.  But  that  will  soon  be  over,  now." 

Marcia's  kiss  was  so  affectionate  that  Jessie  expanded  her  eyes 
in  amazement.     She  never  saluted  anybody  in  that  fashion,  she 
f 


104  NEMESIS. 

thought  ;  but  after  ruminating  upon  the  circumstances,  sin 
slowly  concluded  that  if  any  of  the  young  ladies  of  her  acquaint- 
ance had  rich,  handsome  brothers,  she  might  be  hurried  into  the 
same  extravagance. 

'•  Absolutely  her  work-bag  1"  uttered  Eleanor,  as  her  visitor, 
having  given  her  bonnet  to  a  servant,  and  arranged  her  hair 
anew,  settled  herself  for  the  forenoon. 

"  I  am  never  exactly  easy  without  it,"  said  Marcia,  producing 
a  strip  of  linen,  with  the  threads  drawn  ready  for  stitching.  "  It 
is  against  ma's  rules  to  waste  anything — especially  tune." 

This  was  spoken  in  perfect  innocence  of  any  personal  reflec- 
tion ;  but  Eleanor's  eye  stole,  unseen  by  the  speaker,  to  her 
sister,  who  had  vacated  the  sofa  in  favor  of  a  stuffed  chair,  and 
sat  with  her  milk-white  hands  folded,  as  usual.  The  sly  arrow 
might  have  enlightened  the  sister-in-law  expectant  as  to  the  hidden 
reefs  beneath  the  current,  that  ran  so  smoothly  on  the  surface 
but  she  was  too  intent  upon  her  work  to  see  it. 

She  was  a  very  pretty  girl— the  prettiness  of  regular  features 
and  color.  In  this  respect,  she  had  the  advantage  over  Elea- 
nor, queenly  though  she  was  when  she  willed  it.  Marcia  was, 
however,  of  a  domestic,  yet  lively  turn  ;  less  showily  educated 
than  her  friends,  yet  ladylike  and  agreeable  enough  in  conversar 
tion ;  never  brilliant,  like  Eleanor,  and  never  nonsensical,  like  Jessie. 
Seen  without  the  glamour  of  Malcolm's  love  and  fancy,  she  was  a 
comely,  practical,  amiable  damsel,  with  no  particular  strength  of 
will  or  steadiness  of  purpose,  and  a  dutiful  daughter,  if  one  might 
nidge  from  her  constant  references  to  "ma's  "wishes  and  sentiments. 

"  Your  brother  is  decidedly  better,  then  ?"  she  observed,  trying 
to  seem  politely  careless,  as  she  stroked  out  the  two  or  three 
inches  of  stitches  she  had  set. 

"  So  the  doctor  assures  us  ;  you  cannot  imagine  how  anxious 
we  are  to  have  him  home  again.  He  cannot  be  comfortable 
where  he  is,  much  as  we  try  to  make  him  so." 


N  fe  M  E  S  I  8  .  lOfi 

"  Such  a  funny  place  I"  put  in  Jessie.  "  Sand  on  the  floor,  and 
fast  two  windows  in  the  whole  house,  and  a  ladder  in  the  largest 
room  1" 

"  But  pa  says  that  everything  looks  neat,  and  that  they  are 
altogether  different  from  most  people  in  their  circumstances, 
said  Marcia.  "  He  was  quite  struck  with  Mr.  Hale,  when  he 
called  at  our  house,  to  buy  some  timber  or  rails,  or  something  of 
that  sort.  He  told  ma  that  he  was  the  finest  specimen  of  an 
intelligent  mechanic  he  ever  saw,  and  that  if  the  country  were 
stocked  with  such,  the  distinctions  of  rank  would  be  at  an  end." 

"  I  am  thankful  that  it  is  not,  then,"  rejoined  Eleanor  ;  "  I  do 
not  relish  the  vision  of  a  houseful  of  cobblers  and  cobblers'  wives. 
I  must  say  that  this  Hale  woman  seems  to  consider  herself  fit  for 
any  society.  Fancy  her  at  your  table,  and  your  father  inviting 
her  to  take  wine,  in  his  fine,  courtly  style.  '  Wall,  I  rathei 
guess  I  will — thank  ye  !' " 

Marcia  joined  in  Jessie's  laugh.  "  Oh,  we  must  polish  them, 
before  we  admit  them  to  terms  of  equality.  Not  that  I,  myself, 
do  not  agree  with  you.  It  will  be  some  centuries  before  men 
arrive  at  this  state  of  society.  This  Mrs.  Hale  is  quite  a  lady  in 
appearance,  I  have  noticed  her  as  we  were  riding  by.  They  have 
improved  their  house  surprisingly.  It  is  really  a  romantic  cottage 
— like  those  we  read  of  in  novels." 

"  Hop-vines  and  holyhocks  !  They  are  hardly  evidences  of  & 
refined  taste.  But  the  house  is  good  enough  for  them.  Pa  haa 
taken  pains  that  it  shall  not  be  an  unsightly  object.  It  is  so  eon- 
ipicuous  from  the  road." 

"  I  thought  that  man  did  all  that  himself.  Pa  gathered  from 
what  he  said  that  it  was  his  own  work." 

"  A  probable  story  1  Where  was  he  to  get  the  money  to  do  it 
vTith  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  tried  to  create  the  knpressior 
Jhat  it  was  the  fruit  of  his  industry,  for  he  is  a  fellow  who  makw 
great  pretensions." 

5* 


106  NEMESIS. 

"  But  Eleanor,  some  of  the  improvement  s  were  his,"  said 
Jessie.  "  Who  else  would  ever  have  put  up  that  horrid  sign  ?" 

"  That  is  your  eyesore,"  responded  her  sister.  "  The  shoe- 
maker's wife  is  mine,  and  a  more  intolerable  one.  She  takes  upon 
herself  the  greatest  airs  you  can  conceive  of,  Marcia  ;  carries 
her  head,  and  steps  as  if  she  were  the  wife  of  a  lord.  She  speaks 
to  us  with  such  provoking  condescension,  that  you  would  imagine 
us  to  be  her  younger  sisters,  and  herself  and  her  husband  are 
dear  Malcolzn's  patrons.  Poor  old  Barbara  was  blinded  by  them, 
months  ago,  and  so  they  have  unbounded  swing,  down  there, 
Tessie  and  I  have  to  march,  when  'Mrs.  Hale'  winks  at  Bar- 
oara,  and  have  the  honor  and  felicity  of  being  bowed  out  of  the 
front  kitchen,  by  '  Mr.  Hale,'  with  his  leathern  apron  on,  and  his 
hammer  in  his  hand.  That  pert  minx  of  a  child  has  the  run  of 
the  premises,  all  day  ;  lolls  on  Malcolm's  bed  ;  fans  him,  enter- 
tains him,  and  for  aught  I  know,  gives  him  his  medicine." 

Marcia  had  let  fall  her  work,  and  was  looking  at  Eleanor,  with 
a  countenance  full  of  disgust  and  pity. 

"  Is  it  not  shameful  ?"  she  said,  warmly.  "  Why  don't  you  teach 
them  their  proper  place  ?  I  should  not  think  any  one,  no  matter 
how  audacious,  would  attempt  to  impose  upon  you,  Eleanor. 
Why,  you  could  keep  anybody  at  a  distance.  It  would  be  kind- 
ness to  these  people,  to  check  their  forwardness." 

"  When  my  brother  is  under  their  roof  !  No,  no,  Marcia  ! 
you  thoughtless  aristocrat !" 

No  saintly  plebeian  could  have  rebuked  with  more  gentle 
humility. 

"  They  have  been  very  attentive  to  him,"  she  continued,  with 
generous  candor.  "  There  is  no  disputing  that  ;  and  hi  virtue 
of  this,  we  are  inclined  to  overlook  our  personal  grievances.  Their 
being  trebly  paid  for  their  services,  does  not  alter  the  fact  of  oul 
obligation.  True,  we  regard  them  as  pushing  and  officious,  bat 
I  would  hope  that  they  mean  well  toward  Malcolm,' 


IT  ft  M  E  8  I  8  .  107 

"  He  likes  them,  and  that  funny  little  girl  most  ol'  all  i"  giggled 
Jessie. 

"  Yes  !  the  darling  fellow  is  infatuated.  For  pity's  sake, 
never  breathe  one  word  of  what  we  have  been  saying,  to  him 
lie  is  so  impulsive  and  affectionate,  so  easily  deceived  by  plausi 
ble  looks  and  stories — by  anything  that  appeals  to  his  feelings 
that  he  runs  wild  about  these  people.  Pa  regrets  it  more  than 
we  do;  but,  as  he  says,  there  is  but  one  course  for  us  to  pursue, 
and  that  is  to  wait,  as  quietly  as  we  can,  until  the  scales  drop 
from  kis  eyes. 

"  If  thai  little  child  were  grown,  I  think  he  would  marry  her," 
Baid  Jessie.  "  That  would  be  the  funniest  part  of  all — wouldn't 
it?" 

"  Mercy,  Jessy,  you  make  my  flesh  crawl  1"  and  Eleanor's 
grimace  partook  of  aversion  and  ridicule.  "  That  could  never 
happen  !  If  Malcolm  could  forget  whose  blood  runs  in  his  veins, 
the  dead  and  buried  Argyles  would  start  from  their  graves  to 
prevent  the  monstrous  sacrilege  1" 

Marcia  was  an  interested  listener,  and  she  carried  home,  at 
night,  a  faithful  report  of  what  she  had  learned  of  Malcolm's 
situation  and  the  manoeuvres  of  his  wily  hosts.  Mrs.  Selden 
thought  it  "  a  shame  that  a  gentleman's  son  should  be  forced  to 
submit  to  dictation  from  those  so  much  beneath  him,"  and  mar- 
velled with  her  daughter  at  the  forbearance  of  the  Argyles. 

Mr.  Selden  looked  grave  at  the  unfavorable  account  of  Mark's 
presumption,  too  near  akin  to  impertinence,  to  suit  his  patrician 
taste. 

He  "  had  taken  a  h'king  to  the  fellow,"  he  confessed,  for  he 
"  believed  him  to  be  honest  and  industrious,  and  that,  while  he 
had  more  intelligence  than  was  common  in  his  class,  he  was  not 
ibove  his  trade.     He  was  sorry  to  hear  otherwise." 
-     "  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  his  wife,  satisfiedly. 
."And  I  ought  not  to  bt  "'  was  Mr.  Seldeu's  reply  ;  "for  thai 


1C  3  NEMESIS. 

is  uniformly  the  way  with  that  style  of  people.  A  little  notice 
from  those  of  better  standing  turns  their  heads  ;  deceives  them 
with  the  impression  that  they  are  rising  in  the  world ;  spoils  them 
for  the  sphere  in  which  they  were  born,  and  renders  them  obnox- 
ous  to  those  whom  they  would  imitate.  There  are  upstarts,  in 
abundance,  popping  up  their  heads  like  mushrooms,  all  around 
us.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  substantial  old  resident  of  the  coun- 
ty, to  keep  these  in  their  proper  place ;  to  teach  them  that 
there,  and  there  alone,  can  they  be  respectable  and  respected." 

"You  said,  the  other  day,  that  if  all  working-men  were  as 
intelligent  as  this  Mr.  Hale,  there  would  be  no  more  difference 
of  rank,  pa  ;  and  you  spoke  as  if  it  would  be  a  great  thing  for 
the  country,"  said  the  matter-of-fact  Marcia. 

Mr.  Selden's  smile  was  sligKly  embarrassed. 

"  That  was  my  denxxT&tic  theory,  n?  daughter.  Practice  if 
quite  another  affair." 


HEM  E  3  I  8.  109 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  IT  is  a  pleasant  day,  my  son.  Are  yon  well  enough  to  drive 
irat  a  short  distance  ?  The  carriage  is  at  your  service." 

Malcolm  was  lying  upon  the  settee  hi  Miss  Barbara's  room, 
dressed,  bat  very  weak  and  emaciated.  There  was  altogether 
tco  moch  of  the  invalid  still  about  him  to  please  his  father,  who, 
onaccustoined  to  the  sight  of  disease,  and  having  enjoyed  sound 
health  during  most  of  his  life,  could  not  be  convinced  tluii 
this  debility  did  not  portend  further,  and  possibly  fatal,  results  cf 
his  accident.  His  incessant  watchfulness  and  minute  inquiries 
were  often  irritating  to  the  convalescent,  yet  could  noi  help  bein£ 
touched  by  these  evidences  of  an  attachment,  that  never  found 
rent  in  words.  He  rallied,  now,  to  reply  gratefully. 

"  It  is  kind  in  you  to  propose  it,  sir.  I  should  enjoy  an  airing, 
provided  it  is  prudent  to  attempt  it.  What  do  you  say,  Aunt 
Bab  ?" 

"  'Twon't  hurt  1" 

It  was  one  of  Miss  Barbara's  "  pie-crust  days,"  as  Malcolm 
named  the  turns  of  exceeding  brevity  in  language,  and  a  peculiar 
mapping — not  snappishness— of  articulation  and  motion,  that  over< 
took  her,  now  and  then,  when  fashionable  ladies  would  have 
called  themselves  "  nervous,"  and  been  called  by  others  cross. 

"  Then,  you  may  order  the  carriage,  if  you  please,  sir.  How 
far  may  I  go,  Aunt  Bab  ?"  with  an  imploring  eagerness,  thai 
moved  his  nurse  to  a  very  gentle  denial  of  what  she  felt  was  hii 
wisL 


liO  NEMESIS. 

"  Not  morc'n  a  mile.     It's  the  first  time,  remember." 

"  Please,  dear  Aunt  Bab  1"  The  boy  caught  her  dry,  stiff 
tiand,  as  she  beat  up  his  pillows. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Be  patient !  If  you  don't  throw 
yourself  back  by  being  too  smart,  you  can  go  to  see  her  next 
week." 

"  Why  don't  you  say  next  year,  and  be  done  with  it  ?"  he 
rejoined,  pettishly,  flinging  himself  over  to  the  other  side  of  the 
couch. 

Miss  Barbara  said  nothing  more  then,  only  went  on  preparing 
the  savory  broth  he  loved,  and  craved  with  the  avidity  of  return- 
ing appetite.  He  would  have  it  made  by  no  one  but  her,  and 
when  it  was  ready,  she  served  it  upon  a  stand  beside  his  couch. 
He  stayed  her  hand  in  the  spreading  of  a  napkin  over  this,  and 
looked  up  penitently  into  her  face. 

"  I  don't  mind  it.  You  can't  help  it  1"  was  all  her  reply,  and 
peace  was  restored. 

"  Is  Malcolm  going  out  ?"  inquired  Eleanor,  coming  in. 

Her  father  reentered  at  the  moment,  and  replied  in  thq 
affirmative. 

"  So  Sarah  said,  but  I  thought  she  was  mistaken.  It  is  too 
bad  !  /  wanted  the  carriage  to-day,  and  you  must  all  have 
known  it.  Jessie  and  I  are  engaged  to  dine  at  Mr.  Logan's, 
and  as  it  is  ten  miles  off,  if  we  don't  start  early,  we  shall 
not  get  there  in  tune.  Cannot  you  put  off  your  drive, 
Malcolm  ?" 

"  Certainly  !"  he  said,  contemptuously. 

Mr.  Argyle  seldom  disputed  the  will  of  his  imperious  daughter, 
Bave  when  she  pulled  too  strongly  upon  his  purse-strings  ;  but  her 
eelfish  disregard  of  her  sick  brother's  comfort  was  too  flagrant  an 
offence  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 

"  Eleanor  !"  he  remonstrated,  sternly.  "  You  are  not  serious 
In  asking  your  brother  to  deny  him.self  what  will  conduce  to  hii 


NEMESIS.  Ill 

recover)7 — and  this,  after  his  tedious  confinement  to  the  house  1 
I  am  astonished  1" 

"  There  it  is  I  I  expected  nothing  else  1"  cried  Eleanor. 
Btormily.  "  Nobody  on  this  plantation  is  of  the  least  consequence 
excepting  Malcolm — always  Malcolm  !  Here  we  have  been 
cooped  up  for  seven  weeks;  going  nowhere,  and  seeing  no  com 
pany;  moping  and  sighing  over  him,  because  he  was  too  awk- 
ward a  rider  to  keep  his  seat  on  a  horse;  associating  with  all 
manner  of  vulgar  people,  and  seeing  them  eternally  preferred  to 
ourselves  !  Much  natural  affection  he  has  shown  for  his  sisters, 
that  we  should  make  any  more  sacrifices  for  him  1  I've  had  a 
surfeit  of  cobblers  and  cobblers'  wives,  and  a  taste  of  better 
society  will  be  a  luxury." 

Malcolm's  face  was  ashy  white  with  wrath,  and  his  eyes  glowed 
in  it,  like  burning  coals. 

"The  girl  has  gone  mad  at  last !"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  was 
frightfully  suppressed.  "  I  always  prophesied  that  her  temper 
would  get  the  upper  hand  of  her  senses  in  -the  end.  Indulge  her, 
sir,  by  all  means.  My  proposed  excursion  was  not  of  my  seeking, 
but  your  own  kind  offer.  With  many  thanks  for  your  good 
intentions,  I  shall  stay  where  I  am.  Let  Miss  Argyle  go,  but 
send  a  keeper  and  a  strait  waistcoat  with  her." 

"  Hush  !"  said  Miss  Barbara,  in  his  ear,  and  she  would  have 
forced  him  back  to  the  pillow,  from  which  he  had  started.  Ht> 
did  not  heed  her,  except  by  resisting  her  pressure  upon  m> 
shoulder.  In  the  subdued  accents  of  concentrated  rage,  he  went 
on : 

"  It  is  absurd  to  reason  with  a  crazy  thing,  I  have  heard  :  but 
I  will  say  a  word  or  two — yes  1  and  take  care  that  you  shall 
recollect  them  for  the  future  1  This  is  not  the  first,  nor  tho 
second,  no1*  the  huudreth  time  that  I  nave  listened  to  your 
„  gratuitous  sneers  and  abuse  of  those  friends  of  mine,  who  saved 
my  life.  '  A  small  service  !'  you  will  say.  I  do  not  dt-uy  it:  Lml 


112  NEMESIS. 

on  their  part,  the  merit  of  the  deed  was  the  same,  as  if  Miss 
Eleanor  Argyle's  existence  were  endangered,  instead  of  her 
brother's.  I  do  not  expect  you  to  rise  superior  to  the  prejudices 
of  those  who  have  only  the  accidents  of  fortune  and  rank  t<? 
Jepend  upon,  for  distinction  in  this  world;  still  less  do  I  suppose 
you  capable  of  appreciating  the  rare  combination  of  virtues  that 
shine  out  in  the  characters  of  Mr.  Hale  and  his  wife.  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  associate  with  them.  I  have  too  much  regard  for 
their  comfort,  for  they  would  be  the  sufferers — not  you.  But  you 
Bhall  be  silent  concerning  them,  in  my  hearing  !  And,  further- 
more, If  it  ever  comes  to  ray  ears  that  you  have  slandered  them  to 
others,  I  will  find  means  to  make  you  repent  it  to  the  latest  day 
of  your  life.  Be  sure  of  that !  They  are  among  the  best  friends 
I  have  in  the  world.  I  wish  this  to  be  understood,  and  that  I 
will  defend  them  to  the  last.  Now,  go  to  your  '  better  society,' 
and  play  the  amiable  for  the  remainder  of  the  day !" 

If  Eleanor  had  been  a  man,  she  would  have  felled  her  brother  to 
the  floor,  feeble  and  ill  as  he  was.  Miss  Barbara,  who  knew  her 
temper  of  old,  involuntarily  stepped  hi  between  her  and  the  settee, 
as  she  bent  forward  to  speak.  Eleanor  noticed  the  motion,  and 
laughed  bitterly. 

"  Your  baby  does  not  require  your  protection,"  she  said.  "  He 
is  too  weak  to  do  more  than  to  talk,  or  I  should  be  the  one  in 
danger.  The  tongue  that  insults  a  woman,  has  generally  a  hand 
to  match  it,  in  unmanly  violence.  Let  me  congratulate  you,  my 
dear  brother,  upon  your  improvement  in  the  art  of  abuse.  Your 
instructors  deserve  credit  for  their  diligence^and  their  pupil  for 
his.  I  am  free  to  confess  myself  unequal  to  you,  in  this  respect, 
not  having  been  thrown  in  the  way  of  hearing  and  acquiring  this 
sort  of  practice.  It  will  be  advisable  for  the  rest  of  the  family  to 
study  with  the  shoemaker's  wife  for  awhile,  since  this  style  off 
conversation  is  to  be  introduced  into  our  household.  Is  it  it 
tliis  way,  that  1  would  reap  benefit  from  association  with  them  I 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  113 

they  '  would  be  the  sufferers '  by  unconscious  imitation  o' 
my  manners  ?" 

"  This  is  extremely  unbecoming  conduct  and  language,"  Mr 
Argyle  found  breath  to  say. 

Malcolm  raised  himself  to  his  feet,  and  strove  to  speak ;  but  th» 
crimson  that  had  rushed  to  his  brow  with  the  effort,  faded  as  sud- 
denly, and  he  fell  back  upon  nis  pillows.  Miss  Barbara  caught 
Eleanor's  arm,  whirled  her  to  the  door,  and  slammed  it  after  bet, 
then  darted  back  to  the  fainting  lad. 

Mr.  Argyle,  confounded  and  paralyzed,  did  not  stir — hardly 
breathed  till  the  swoon  was  averted;  the  deathly  hue  of  the  face, 
and  the  hysterical  gasping  of  the  exhausted  lungs  passed  away. 
He  had  an  indefinite  consciousness  that  both  of  his  unruly 
children  were  in  fault,  and  that  his  duty  was  to  censure  them. 
Eleanor,  he  was  literally  afraid  to  seek,  in  her  present  state;  but 
he  took  courage  from  Malcolm's  prostration.  Another  considera- 
tion propelled  him  to  the  prompt  chastisement  of  his  son.  Ho 
had  espoused  the  wrong  side  of  the  question.  His  laudations  of, 
and  professions  of  attachment  for  the  Hales,  were  as  unpalatable 
to  father  as  to  daughter.  He  had,  hitherto,  tried  to  check  the 
unsuitable  intimacy  by  innuendoes  and  disapproving  looks,  which, 
he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing,  were  not  thrown  away  upon 
Malcolm's  recent  hosts,  however  he  might  choose  to  slight  them. 
The  time  for  decisive  action  had  arrived;  the  issue  was  raised,  and 
he  must  assert  his  authority  as  chieftain  of  the  clan,  and  set  the 
matter  at  rest.  These  bickerings  and  vulgar  outbreaks  could  not 
be  tolerated  where  he  was  master.  Seeing  Maleolm  again  silent, 
and  outwardly  calm,  he  opened  his  argument. 

"  I  had  hoped,  Malcolm,  that  you  and  your  sister  had  out 

grown  these  childish  and  irrational  exhibitions  of  temper.     I  am 

particularly  grieved  at  your   intemperate  expressions   and  the 

'singular   views   you  have   adopted   of  late.     Eleanor  is  to   be 

beamed  for  her  attack;  but  you  must  admit  that  her  charges  art 


J  11  KEMESIS. 

not  guundless.  Your — ahem  !  alienation  from  your  kindred  and 
intercourse  with  those  occupying  a  lower  grade  of  society,  have 
occasioned  me  more  solicitude  than  I  can  express.  Ahem  !" 

He  paused  to  note  the  effect  of  his  preamble,  foi  under  hi? 
doughty  mien  and  big  words,  he  was  an  arrant  coward  at  heart, 
and  a  flash  of  the  fire  Malcolm  had  just  displayed,  would  have 
put  him  to  flight.  The  boy  lay  motionless  ;  his  deep  eyes  fixed, 
mournfully,  in  a  sort  of  sad  reverie,  upon  his  father. 

Emboldened  by  this  submission,  Mr.  Argyle  resumed  :  "  I  have 
hesitated  about  broaching  this  subject;  but  my  conscience  will  not 
justify  me  in  omitting  to  speak,  now  that  the  question  is — ahem! 
— up  for  discussion.  Yours  is  no  ordinary  position  in  the  world, 
my  son.  In  this  community,  you  will  have  no  superior,  if  you 
remain  just  to  your  ancestors  and  to  yourself.  I  look"  forward  to 
your  career  with  exalted  hopes  ;  with  fervent  wishes  that  the 
family  name  and — ahem  ! — the  family  fortune  will  sustain  no 
detriment,  when  yours  shall  be  the  lot  to  maintain,  both.  Do  1 
render  my  meaning  intelligible  T' 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  son. 

"  It  would  be  a  work  of — ahem! — supererogation  to  remind  you 
that  you  are  the  last  male  scion  of  a  line  of  distinguished  men  ; 
that  your  forefathers  were  " 

"  Mercy  on  us  1"  said  Miss  Barbara,  stumbling  over  Malcolm's 
pointer  and  accidentally ( !)  treading  on  his  foot. 

The  animal  set  up  a  deafening  howl,  and  ran  under  his  master's 
lounge. 

"  There,  Ponto,  poor  fellow  !  Never  mind,  Aunt  Bab,"  said 
Malcolm,  appreciating  the  intention  of  this  diversion.  "  I  wish 
to  hear  all  that  my  father  has  to  say." 

"  It's  no  use  !"  groaned  Miss  Barbara,  inwardly  "  He  is  se 
111  his  own  way.  Can't  the  old  man  see  that  ?  Because  iron  is 
at  a  white  heat,  is  that  any  reason  it  shouldn't  burn  his  finger  ?" 

The  thread  of  Mr.  Argyle's  discourse  was  not  easily  joined 


NEMESIS.  115 

lie  resorted  to  his  snu3F-box,  his  most  valuable  prompter  ;  but  il 
could  suggest  nothing  better  thau  a  dive  into  the  midst  of  tli* 
subject  he  was  trying  to  bring  around  gradually. 

"  Your  unfortunate  accident  is  rendered  doubly  painful  to  u/ 
by  the  development  in  you  of  traits  and  tendencies — ahem  1 
which  are  without  a  parallel  in  our  history.  I  dread  nothing  foi 
yon  more  than  debasing  associations — intimacies  which  may 
depreciate  you  in  the  estimation  of  your  equals  in  fortune  and 
blood." 

"  And  such,  you  intimate,  that  I  have  formed  ?"  inquired  Mal- 
colm, without  any  token  of  emotion. 

"  I  fear  it — very  much  I  fear  it,  my  son." 

"  I  am  very  tired,  sir,  and  too  feeble  to  converse  much  longer. 
Will  you  oblige  me  by  stating  your  commands  briefly  ?" 

"I  do  not  command  positively.  You  are  not  far  from  man's 
estate,  and  I  would  rather  counsel — ahem — direct." 

"  Your  directions  then,  sir,"  said  the  lad,  patiently. 

"  My  recommendation,  then,  is,  that  you  discontinue  your 
visits  at  the  house  of  a  man,  whose  social  standing  is  second  to 
that  of  your  father's  overseer,  and  that  you  repel  with  dignity 
whatever  advances  he  or  his  wife  may  feel  encouraged,  by  youi 
past  condescensions,  to  make.  J  offered — ahem — a  liberal  pecu- 
niary recompense  to  him  when  you  were  brought  home,  and  1 
must  say,  that  his  manner  of  declhiature  was  extremely  offensive 
to  me.  It  savored  too  much  of  pride — an  unpardonable  failing  ia 
an  underling." 

"  Underling  !"  A  sneer  rushed  over  Malcolm's  face,  and  he 
repeated  the  term  through  his  shut  teeth  He  was  patiently  li» 
teuing  again,  before  his  lather  could  determine  whether  or  not  he 
had  seen  his  expression  vary. 

"  Thus,  our  consciences  are  clear  of  obligation  to  him,"  the  old 
jfeutleman  prosed  on. 

"  Give  him  Ids  house  rent-free  for  life,  if  he  rants  it  so  long, 


116  NEMESIS. 

and  fit  it  up  comfortably  for  him,"  suggested  Malcolm,  as  shortlj 
as  Miss  Barbara  could  have  done  ;  "  I  will  engage  that  he  doe» 
2iot  reject  the  proposal.  If  you  deny  me  in  this,  T  shall,  from  my 
allowance,  remit  to  him.  yearly  and  anonymously,  a  sum  equal  tc 
the  exorbitant  rent,  which,  I  learn  from  Sancroft,  you  charge  him 
for  the  miserable  shanty  it  was  when  he  hired  it,  and  which  it 
would  have  remained  until  now,  but  for  his  ingenuity  and  industry. 
Yon  can  disinherit  me,  if  you  like.  What  I  have  said,  is  said." 

"  And  a  sight  too  much  of  it  for  your  good,"  interposed  Miss 
Barbara. 

"  If  there's  any  more  quarrelling  with  him  aud  by  him,  to-day, 
he  will  not  worry  you  and  Miss  Eleanor  a  week  from  this  time.  He 
is  not  fit  for  such  work,  sir.  You  might  knock  him  down  with 
a  straw,  and  yet  he  is  so  fierce  in  spirit,  that  he  will  fight  while 
there's  breath  in  his  body.  If  you'll  let  him  alone  for  four  or 
five  days,  I'll  get  him  ready  for  a  pitched  battle." 

Mr.  Argyle  and  his  cane  retreated  alike  stiffly  at  the  hint  of 
future  contest.  The  laird  was  inconveniently  ruffled  in  mind. 
Malcolm's  unforeseen  change  of  tactics  had  upset  him  more  effec- 
tually than  anything  less  serious  than  a  bad  bargain,  or  actual  loss 
of  money,  had  done  in  many  a  year.  The  boy's  degrading  tastes 
were  incorrigible,  he  feared.  This  bugbear  had  gained  reality 
rapidly  since  Eleanor  first  pointed  it  out.  He  felt,  now,  that  the 
mischief  was  done,  how  artfully  and  easily  the  estrangement  might 
have  been  effected.  But  Malcolm's  blood  and  obstinacy  were 
up,  and  in  his  quivering  soul  the  father  knew  how  much  braver 
than  himself  was  the  stripling  son,  whom  he  had  never  succeeded 
in  controlling.  A  troubled  hour  of  cogitation  resulted  in  a 
Biimmons  to  Mr.  Sancroft,  and  a  lengthened  confabulation  between 
the  employer  and  his  agent. 

The  next  news  that  stirred  the  still  plantation-life,  was  that 
"  Master  Malcolm  was  going  abroad — across  the  big  water,"  the 
servants  said  ;  "  to  the  auld  country,"  said  the  overseer,  w;»t 


>  X  V  R 11  I.  117 

fully  :  and  Eleanor  comforted  Marcia  for  the  separation,  by 
expatiating  upon  "  the  superior  advantages  he  would  have  at  a 
foreign  university,  in  Edinburgh  especially."  Malcolm  experi- 
enced a  thrill  of  intense  delight,  succeeded  by  pain  almost  as 
lively,  when  the  plan  was  unfolded  to  him.  The  physician  pre- 
scribed sea-air  for  his  health,  and  a  visit  to  Europe — a  Scottish 
•Diversity — were  the  bright  realizations  of  many  a  boyish  drearo 
and  student-longing.  His  preparations  were  hurried,  the  pro 
pitious  season  for  making  the  voyage  being  already  far  advanced. 

He  looked  still  unfit  for  travel,  when  he  dismounted  at  the 
Hale's  door,  the  evening  before  he  was  to  set  off.  His  calls  to 
them  had  been  regular,  but  short,  since  he  quitted  their  hospita 
ble  abode;  his  conduct  was  unaltered  from  the  frank  friendliness 
of  yore.  This  afternoon,  he  was  pale  and  depressed.  Mark  and 
Bessy  did  not  remark  audibly  upon  this,  for  they  had  seen  him 
pass,  at  mid-day,  on  his  way  to  Mr.  Selden's,  and  respected,  while 
they  pitied  the  sorrow  that  bore,  with  cruel  weight,  upon  his 
young,  loving  heart.  They  understood,  better  than  he,  the 
impulse  that  caused  him  to  hold  Kitty  so  closely  to  him,  as  she  sat 
on  his  knee,  to  press  his  lips  repeatedly  to  her  soft  curls — so  like 
those  that  clustered  upon  another  iead  !  Their  sympathies 
wanted  no  educational  polish  to  teach  them  the  mysteries  of  affec- 
tion, the  voiceless  yearning  of  the  lonely  spirit,  which  clapped  i** 
tendrils  around  whatever  was  near  and  invited  it  to  cling. 

The  setting  sun  poured  a  golden  stream  over  the  figures  of  the 
youth  and  the  child,  her  eyes  brimming  with  wonder  and  sorrow, 
because  hi  his  she  read  a  melancholy  meaning  that  passed  her 
Comprehension. 

"  And  Kitty  will  forget  me,"  he  said,  by  and  by,  ceasing  the 
conversation  relative  to  his  journey  and  designs,  for  the  ensuing 
year,  which  he  was  forcing  himself  to  carry  on  with  her  parents. 

"  No,   no  !"  she  said,   earnestly,   throwing  an  arm  about  hil 
'  ne<k.     "I  can  remember  ever  so  long — forever  and  a  day  1" 


118  NEMESIS. 

"  You  caught  that  saying  from  Aunt  Bab,"  he  answered,  snii 
ling.  "  I  shall  be  gone  a  whole  year  and  a  half,  Kitty — maybe 
more  A  great  many  things  may  happen  in  that  time.  I  shall 
Bud  yon  here,  when  I  return  ?"  he  subjoined  to  Mark,  more  in 
assertion,  than  inquiry. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  was  the  grave  reply.  "  We  have  feared,  some- 
times, that  we  have  not  judged  for  the  best,  in  choosing  this  home, 
but  it  is  the  only  one  we  have,  at  present,  or  can  have,  for  a 
twelvemonth,  at  least.  You  know  the  old  proverb — '  A  rolling 
Btone  gathers  no  moss.'  I  would  not  desert  a  location  that 
promised  anything  like  a  support,  under  a  two  years'  trial." 

"  Your  prospects  are  fair,  are  they  not  ?"  asked  Malcolm, 
quickly. 

"They  are  not  dark,"  answered  Mark,  evasively. 

Malcolm  looked  uneasy,  "  I  wish  I  could  do  away  with  any 
unpleasant  feeling  that  the  conduct  of  others  may  have  engen- 
dered in  your  mind,  could  persuade  you  how  idle  are  any  fore- 
bodings, on  that  account;  yet,  perhaps,  these  a*re  best  dismissed 
by  a  prudent  silence.  Believe  me  in  one  thing,  however.  My 
father  is  your  friend,  and  you  will  shortly  have  a  token  of  hi? 
good-will,  which  I  beg  you  to  accept,  if  you  desire  to  make  me 
happy.  Recollect,  that  were  all  that  I  ever  expect  to  own,  yours, 
and  myself  your  bondsman,  I  would  still  be  your  debtor.  And, 
piomise  me  faithfully  and  solemnly,  that  should  anything  occur  in 
my  absence,  that  would,  if  I  were  here,  afford  me  a  chance  that 
I  dearly  covet — that  of  serving  you — you  will  apply  to  me  by 
letter.  Here  is  my  address." 

They  promised.     His  earnestness  left  no  room  for  denial. 

Hands  were  pressed  ;  kind  wishes  said  for  his  prosperous  jour- 
ueyings  and  safe  return,  he  tried  to  articulate  again  his  gratitude 
for  their  many  benefits — and  little  Kitty,  standing  on  the  door* 
steps,  watched  him,  through  her  tears,  ride  slowly  away  in  th« 
yollow  sunset. 


*  E  U  E  8  I  8  .  119 


CHAPTER  IX. 

As  ms  son  had  promised,  Mr.  Argyle  soon  ulspatched  a  special 
communication  to  his  tenant.  Mr.  Sancroft  was  its  bearer. 

•'  Don't  let  me  disturb  you,  Mrs.  Hale  !"  he  said  to  Bessy,  who 
would  have  left  the  room  to  him  and  Mark.  "  What  I  have  to 
say  concerns  you,  madam.  The  luck  of  one's  husband  must 
interest  the  wife.  It  is  queer,  how  in  this  world  of  ours,  one 
man's  bane  is  another  man's  meat — to  quote  a  venerable  saw,  Mr 
Hale.  Who  could  have  guessed  that  what  everybody  else 
reckoned  a  calamity — namely — Mr.  Malcolm  Argyle's  fall  from 
his  horse,  close  to  your  door,  injuring  him  for  life,  it  maybe, 
wonld  yet  be  a  stroke  of  good  fortune  to  you,  my  dear  sir  ?  I 
dare  say,  now,  that  the  idea  of  such  an  event  never  entered 
your  mind,  Mr.  Hale — ney  ?" 

"  It  certainly  never  did,"  said  Mark,  with  dignified  composure. 
''  Mr.  Argyle's  misfortune  distressed  none  of  his  friends  more  than 
it  did  us." 

The  eyebrows  were  incredulous  ;  then,  mockingly  respectful. 

The  feeling  does  you  honor,  Mr.  Hale.     I  shall  report  it, 
truthfully,  at  head-quarters,  sir." 

Mark  bit  his  lip  in  vexation  at  the  construction  put  upon  hia 
reply  ;  but  to  resent  it  would  be  a  recognition  of  the  agent's 
meanhg  he  was  not  disposed  to  give. 

"  A  creditable  sentiment,  sir,  and  nothing  more  than  I  should 
'have  expected  of  you.  I  am  pressed  for  tune,  to-day,  Mr.  Hale 
4o,  if  yon  please,  we  will  now  proceed  directly  to  business." 


120  NEMESIS. 

"  You  could  not  please  me  better,"  Mark  was  so  incautions  a» 
to  say. 

The  eyebrows  caught  at  the  unfortunate  phrase. 

"  Fou  may  well  say  that,  Mr.  Hale,  and  I  honor  your  frank 
ness  in  not  feigning  unconsciousness  that  there  is  agreeable  intel- 
ligence in  store  for  you.  I  perceive  that  your  acuteuess  has 
anticipated  the  nature  of  my  errand.  Indeed,  for  obvious  reasons, 
I  supposed  that  you  would  think  me  a  tardy  messenger.  Yon 
must  have  endured  an  uncomfortable  degree  of  suspense,  since 
receiving  tke  hint  which  escaped  Mr.  Malcolm  Argyle,  when  he 
was  last  here.  It  was  indiscreet  in  him  to  refer,  in  explicit  terms, 
to  a  matter  that  was  then  so  uncertain  ;  but  he  is  hasty,  some- 
times, both  in  forming  attachments  and  engagements,  as  you  may 
have  observed,  Mr.  Hale.  I  see  that  you  are  all  impatience  to 
learn  the  whole  of  your  glad  tidings.  Mr.  Argyle,  Senior,  has 
understood  from  his  son  that  you  think  the  rent  of  your  pla^fi 
extortionate  " 

"  Sir  I"  ejaculated  Mark,  astounded. 

"  Have  patience,  my  dear  sir  !    I  am  coming  to  the  point" 

"  Before  you  proceed  one  word  further,"  said  Mark,  collecting 
his  senses,  "  I  desire  to  state  distinctly,  that  I  never  expressed  or 
implied  any  discontent  with  this  house  or  the  rent,  in  Mr.  Malcolm 
Argyle's  hearing." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Here  is  an  important  misunderstanding,  Mr. 
Hale." 

The  eyebrows  weighed  the  testimony  on  both  sides,  and  found 
Mark's  wanting.  The  mouth  said  the  same,  but  more  guardedly. 

"  Is  not  your  memory  treacherous  in  this  respect,  sir  ?  Else, 
bow  should  Mr.  Malcolm  Argyle  have  ascertained  the  amount  of 
your  house-hire,  and  the  sum  you  have  expended  in  improve- 
ments ?'' 

"  I  do  not  know,  indeed,  Mr.  Bancroft,  unless  from  yourself.? 
returned  Mark. 


NEMESIS.  191 

» 

•'  Or  from  Mrs.  Hale  " — wheeling  suddenly  toward  her.  "  So 
great  a  favorite  as  was  your  handsome  guest  may,  naturally  and 
properly,  have  talked  over  family  affairs  with  you,  my  dear  madam 
—hey  ?"" 

"  If  you  call  my  husband's  word  in  question,  you  will  hardlj 
believe  me  when  I  say  that  Mr.  Argyle  never  did  any  such  thing,' 
Bessy  said,  spiritedly  ^ 

"  Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Hale  !  Do  not,  my  good  lady,  be  offended 
with  one  who  wishes  you  well,  and  who  is  the  bearer  of  pleasant 
news.  To  skip  this  point,  or  to  take  for  granted  that  the  young 
gentleman  was  mistaken  in  giving  you  as  his  authority  in  his 
altercation — I  should  have  said,  discussion — with  his  father  ;  Mr. 
Argyle,  Senior,  having  learned  of  your  impression  that  he  was 
dealing  hardly  by  you,  in  this  compact,  although  he  could  wish 
that  the  complaint  had  been  made  more  directly  to  himself,  is 
willing  to  overlook  this,  in  remembrance  of  your  gratuitous 
attentions  to  his  sick  son,  and  commissions  me  to  inform  you 
of  his  generous  intentions  in  your  behalf.  He  cannot  con- 
scientiously charge  a  lower  rent  for  your  commodious  residence 
tt  would  create  dissatisfaction  among  his  other  tenants.  He  has 
the  right,  however,  to  confer  whatever  benefaction  he  wishes. 
Therefore,  without  tedious  formalities,  Mr.  Hale,  he  requests  me 
to  apprise  you  that  this  house  is  at  your  service — rent-free — for 
go  long  a  time  as  you  may  choose  to  occupy  it.  And  he  trusts 
that  the  debt  of  obligation,  which  you  may  justly  have  considered 
as  binding  upon  him,  through  the  accidental  circumstance  of  his 
son's  having  been  brought  in  here,  after  his  fall,  and  been  unable 
to  leave  for  several  weeks — he  hopes,  I  say,  that  this,  with  him, 
involuntary  indebtedness,  may  be  cancelled  by  his  gift.  A  noble 
offer — isn't  it,  Mr.  Hale  ?  It  is  entirely  hi  consonance  with  the 
character  of  your  patron.  Exact  to  the  splitting  of  a  hair  in 
monetary  affairs — hard,  as  some  call  his  prompt  procedures — he 
is*  yet  princely  in  his  liberality,  when  he  chooses  to  exercise  it- 

0 


NEMESIS. 

This  latest  instance  will  make  a  fine  noise  in  the  neighborhood, 
I'll  be  bound,  and  cannot  but  serve  as  an  advertisement  for  your- 
self, Mr.  Hale.  Would  it  not  be  well  for  you  to  mention  it,  and 
add  your  thanks,  in  your  next  letter  to  Scotland  ?  It  will  please 
Mr.  Malcolm  Argyle  to  learn  that  you  are  aware  of  his  instrumen- 
tality in  procuring  your  excellent  fortune.  I  take  it  for  granted 
that  you  correspond  with  the  affectionate  young  gentleman — hey  ?" 

"  You  take  altogether  too  much  for  granted  to-day,  sir — are 
going  ahead  entirely  too  fast,"  said  Mark's  firm,  decided  tones. 
"  If  Mr.  Malcolm  Argyle  made  the  representations  to  his  father 
which  you  have  repeated,  I  do  not  care  to  thank  him  for  a  favor 
obtained  by  such  means.  If  he  did  not — and  allow  me  to  say, 
that  this  is  the  most  reasonable  supposition,  in  my  opinion — the 
less  said  the  better.  To  your  '  patron/  you  may  reply  that  I 
regret  extremely  the  sense  of  obh'gation  under  which  he  lies.  As 
I  told  him  myself,  when  his  son  was  carried  home,  we  did  all  that 
lay  in  our  power  for  the  poor  young  gentleman,  and  did  it  cheer- 
fally,  without  ever  one  thought  of  any  compensation,  except  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  him  well  again.  Thus,  he  will  see,  that  it 
would  be  downright  dishonesty  in  me  to  receive  the  '  gift '  he 
offers,  as  payment  for  our  services.  He  is  not  in  debt  to  us,  and 
please  Heaven" — Mark  drew  up  his  stalwart  figure  and  looked 
the  independent  man  he  was — "  please  Heaven,  we  will  never  be 
in  his  1" 

"  This  is  an  extraordinary  message,  Mr.  Hale.  Had  you  not 
better  take  tune  and  reconsider  this  decision  ?  Favors  like  these 
are  not  as  plenty  as  blackberries.  Do  not  throw  away  a  golden 
cWnce  of  bettering  your  fortune.  Mrs.  Hale,  will  you  not  use 
yotu  influence  with  him  ?" 

''  If  he  will  not  repeat  the  answer  you  have  just  had  without 
it,"  said  Bessy,  scornfully. 

"  My  dear  friends  !"  reasoned  eyebrows  and  lips,  in  measured 
time  and  perfect  unison,  "you  are  young  and  inconsiderate,' 


NEMESIS.  128 

unsophisticated,  Mr  Hale — a  trifle  too  precipitate,  Mrs.  Hale. 
You  have  played  your  cards  admirably,  thus  far — if  you  will  not 
take  umbrage  at  the  expression.  Now,  that  you  art-  on  the 
point  of  winning,  do  not  lose  all  by  a  single  wrong  move.  Great 
friends  are  an  invaluable  auxiliary  to  those  who  have  to  make  their 
way  in  the  world.  Such  a  help  you  have  contrived  to  secure  in 
the  younger  Argyle.  His  father  is  an  older  hand  in  the  world's 
ways;  therefore,  a  less  easy  conquest.  Still,  you  have  a  hold  on 
him  iu  his  love  for  his  only  boy.  My  disinterested  counsel  to  you 
is  iiot  to  let  him  slip  through  your  fingers,  and  to  pump  him 
whenever  you  can.  This  sounds  coarse,  but  it  is  the  way  other 
people  climb  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  We  understand  one  another. 
Why  attempt  deception  by  using  fine  words,  and  making  a 
flourish  of  moral  scruples  ?" 

Mark  did  not  try  to  conceal  his  disgust. 

"  If  your  sense  of  duty  to  your  employer  does  not  withhold 
you  from  giving  this  advice,  Mr.  Saucroft,  my  consciousness  of 
what  is  right  toward  nay  fellow-man  forbids  me  to  follow  it.  I 
am  neither  simpleton  nor  knave.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  determine 
which  you  mistake  me  for,  judging  from  the  language  you  hold. 
You  know,  in  your  secret  soul,  that  you  never  intended  me  t</ 
accept  Mr.  Argyle's  offer.  Whether  he  made  it  iu  good  faith  o) 
not,  I  do  not  undertake  to  say.  I  could  have  closed  with  it  oul) 
at  the  sacrifice  of  independence  and  honor.  You  have  tried  your 
best  to  convict  me  of  double-dealing,  of  selfish  motives  and 
feigned  kindness  ;  of  truckling  to  the  wealthy  to  advance  my 
interests.  I  have  never  borne  such  insinuations  from  mortal  man, 
nor  do 'I  intend  to  submit  to  them  now.  You  call  yourself  a 
gentleman,  and  stoop  to  notice  me — a  poor  mechanic.  I  forbid 
you,  now,  ever  to  hold  further  communication  with  me,  except 
•  upon  strictly  business  matters.  These  are  hard  things  to  say  to 
jy  man  in  my  own  house.  Your  conscience  is  my  witness  whethel 
you  \tave  not  deserved  them  all — atid  more  !" 


124  NEMESIS 

"  Good  day,  Mrs.  Hale  I"  said  the  agent,  bowing  himself  out, 
with  a  serenity  truly  edifying  to  behold. 

"  Oh,  Mark  !  what  have  you  done  ?"  cried  Bessy,  clasping  hel 
hands  in  fright — more  at  the  unwonted  excitement  of  her  hus 
band,  than  any  definite  fear  of  consequences  from  his  high-handed 
measure. 

"Ordered  off  a  villain  who  insulted  me  by  questioning  my 
word  and  imputing  despicable  motives  to  me,"  replied  he,  gloom 
ily.  "  There  is  something  at  the  bottom  of  all  this,  which  we  do 
not  see.  That  hound  never  yelped  in  that  style,  without  being 
set  on  by  his  master.  Yet  why  should  he  persecute  me  ?" 

"  It  sounds  very  foolish — the  idea  that  Mr.  Argyle  should  go 
out  of  his  way  to  annoy  you,  without  any  cause  for  hating  you,1' 
said  Bessy,  trying  to  reason  away  his  fancies  and  quiet  her  own 
misgivings.  "  As  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  he  has  never  liked  us  since  last 
Christmas,  when  Mr.  Malcolm  made  game  of  him  before  us. 
Somehow,  people  never  can  forgive  those  who  have  seen  them 
ippear  ridiculous.  Then  he  and  Miss  Barbara  are  always  at 
swords'  points,  and  her  liking  for  us  would  cause  him  to  slight  us. 
He  is  just  the  man  to  treasure  up  a  small,  mean  spite,  and  get  hia 
revenge  in  whatever  manner  he  can.  You  have  not  courted  him 
either,  and  never  submitted  to  his  patronizing  ways,  as  he  ex- 
pected you  would.  Don't  mind  him  !  that  is,  unless  you  find  that 
he  has  set  Mr.  Argyle  against  you,  and  I  cannot  see,  even  then, 
how  they  can  hurt  you." 

"  But  after  what  has  passed,  can  I,  ought  I  to  stay  here  ? 
Bessy!  will  you  break  up  again  and  go  with  me,  to  seek  for  a 
home  ?" 

"  To-morrow,  if  you  wish  it,  dear  Mark  1" 

He  paused  in  his  walk  up  and  down  the  floor,  and  gazed  at 
her  with  a  saddened  tenderness. 

"  I  btlieve  you,  darling  !  You  are  the  truest  wife  man  ever 
had.  We  have  been  here,  now,  a  year  next  month.  It  ii 


NEMESIS. 

card  to  tear  up  the  roots,  just  as  they  are  getting  bold  in  the 
earth  !" 

"  You  told  young  Mr.  Argyle  that  you  would  give  the  place  ». 
two  years'  trial,"  ventured  Bessy,  whose  woman's  heart  had 
learned  to  love  this  home,  if  only  for  the  pains  it  had  cost  her  to 
make  it  comfortable. 

"  I  did,  and  I  will !  I  will  stay  here  until  I  am  driven  away. 
And  after  all,  what  a  fuss  we  are  making  over  what  may  be  a  trifle  1 
I  lost  my  temper,  and  Sancroft  kept  his.  Mr.  Argyle  has  saved 
his  credit  for  generosity,  and  his  rent  besides,  and  Mr.  Malcolm 
will  think  me  perversely  proud  and  ungrateful  for  his  kind  inten- 
tions. There  Is  the  extent  of  the  mischief  done  !  I  am  too 
insignificant  a  mote  to  offend  the  feird's  eye,  now  that  his  son  la 
out  of  the  reach  of  my  influence  ;  that  there  is  no  risk  of  hii» 
going  into  the  shoe  business,  or  eloping  with  you,  or  marrying 
Kitty.  And  the  young  ladies'  minds  are  similarly  relieved.  Mr. 
Argyle's  pleasure  at  my  refusal  to  lessen  his  income  by  the 
amount  of  my  rent,  will  prevent  his  kicking  me  out  of  the  house, 
because  I  invited  his  agent  to  leave.  Hurrah,  Bessy  !  while  1 
can  work,  and  custom  lasts,  we  will  stand  fast,  and  live  down 
pride  and  hatred.  The  winter's  trade  will  be  coming  in,  soon. 
It  ought  to  be  double  what  the  summer  brought,  and  if  it  is  ufl 
more,  we  can  live,  and  more  than  live." 

Confidential  as  were  Mr.  Argyle's  conferences  with  his  able 
tool,  they  were  suspected  and  watched  by  one  of  the  enemy's 
allies.  Miss  Barbara,  by  virtue  of  a  secret  warrant  from  Malcolm, 
took  the  liberty  of  interrogating  the  Hales  concerning  the  pro- 
posal lately  submitted  to  them.  They  were  proof  against  her 
curiosity  at  first  ;  but  finally  surrendered  to  the  extent  of 
ucquainting  her  with  Mr.  Sancroft'e  behavior  and  Mark's 
resentment.  She  said  little  ;  but  that  little  was  strong,  even 
for  her,  and  she  thought  a  deal  more.  That  very  night  she 
Addressed  herself  to  the  arduous  composition  of  a  letter  to  hef 


136  NEMESIS. 

"  boy."  By  dint  of  scrupulously  devoting  every  spare  minute  she 
had  iu  a  whole  week  to  the  undertaking,  she  accomplished  a  minute 
and  energetic  history  of  the  mysterious  occurrence.  This  waa 
directed  to  Malcolm,  and  committed  to  the  post  and  to  Providence. 

"  He  will  scorch  'em  !"  was  the  lullaby  with  which  her  imagi- 
nation rocked  her  to  sleep,  for  several  nights  after  the  important 
transaction. 

Many  weeks  must  roll  by,  ere  the  fiery  castigation,  so  con- 
fidently expected,  could  reach  the  offenders,  and  busied  with  pre- 
parations for  the  fall  and  winter,  Miss  Barbara  had  scanty  sea- 
sons of  leisure  to  bestow  upon  her  young  friends,  "  down  the 
road."  She  was  glad  that  Bessy  did  not  apply  to  her  for  sewing, 
this  fall,  there  being  now  no  reason  why  the  seamstresses  at  homo 
should  not  perform  their  lawful  share  of  work.  The  household 
expenditures  underwent  inspection  weekly  from  the  master.  The 
account-books  of  housekeeper  ard  overseer,  were  carried  on  Mon- 
day morning  to  his  room  and  scanned  as  closely  as  if  millions  of 
pounds,  and  not  dozens  of  pence  were  at  stake. 

Mr.  Argyle  had  a  genius  for  petty  accumulation.  He  knew, 
to  an  ounce,  how  much  butter  should  be  made  from  a  certain 
number  of  gallons  of  milk  ;  to  a  day,  how  long  a  barrel  of  flour 
and  a  hundred  weight  of  bacon  ought  to  last.  This  foible,  as  is 
always  the  case,  increased  with  age,  and  this  winter  it  had  sun- 
dry aggravations,  that  rendered  him  absolutely  miserly.  What 
with  the  necessity  of  dressing  his  daughters,  as  other  ladies  of 
corresponding  rank  were  bedecked,  and  maintaining  abroad  a 
son,  who  would  not  live  as  his  father  had  done,  among  strangers, 
there  was  not  a  man  in  three  counties  who  felt  poorer,  or  more 
miserable  in  his  poverty,  than  did  the  proprietor  of  the  splendid 
estate  of  Ben  Lomond.  Hitherto,  he  ^ad  seldom  interfered 
openly  in  Miss  Barbara's  province.  Distrustful  he  was,  as  avarice 
alone  can  make  one  ;  but  he  found  it  hard  to  doulH  her  economy 
and  thrift,  her  fidelity  to  him  and  to  his. 


NEMESIS.  127 

Latterly,  he  prowled  about  her  premises,  peeped  surreptitious!} 
into  her  barrels  and  jars,  overlooked  wool-bags  and  cotton-bas- 
kets, stole  like  a  thief  to  her  bins  of  choice  vegetables — in  short, 
as  she  said,  "  carried  on  in  such  a  despiseable,  low-lived  way, 
that  she  was  ashamed  to  look  him  in  the  face — she  felt  so  meac 
for  him  I"  From  time  immemorial,  she  had  had  her  perquisites  • 
eggs,  and  fowls  of  her  own  raising  ;  pet  pigs,  and  the  proceeds 
from  the  sale  of  their  bacon  ;  fruits  aid  vegetables,  she  had 
planted  and  tended  herself,  and  a  variety  of  other  things,  that 
eked  out  a  salary  merely  nominal  in  value.  She  took  no  thought 
for  the  morrow.  While  "  the  children  "  lived,  she  would  have  a 
home  and  a  support.  Upon  her  hoard  of  odds  and  ends,  Mr 
Argyle  now  began  to  cast,  what  she  felt,  with  astonishment,  was 
a  jealous  eye,  and  her  ire  exceeded  all  former  bounds.  Too  blind 
to  see  that  he  was  detected  in  the  meanness,  he  approached  the 
topic,  as  he  flattered  himself,  very  cunningly. 

"  Why,  Barbara,"  he  said,  jocosely,  "  you  will  be  a  fortune, 
before  you  die.  Are  you  saving  for  Slocum,  after  all  ?  I  hear 
that  he  is  courting  you  yet." 

"  I  aint  a  fool,  and  Slocum  is  !  That's  all  of -that  1"  snapped 
M  iss  Barbara,  in  her  most  brittle  pie-crust  mood. 

"  But  so  large  a  property  ought  not  to  be  without  an  heir," 
Mr.  Argyle  persisted.  "  Who  are  to  be  the  fortunate  legatees  ? 

"  My  grandchildren  1"  she  retorted,  and  left  him  to  meditate 
upon  his  unsuccessful  ruse. 

Alone  in  her  chamber,  the  little  woman  indulged  herself  in  a 
hearty  cry. 

"  To  come,  spying  and  sneaking  about  me,  as  if  I  had  not 
served  him  faithfully  for  twenty  years  !  I've  a  good  mind  to 
give  him  warning  on  the  spot.  If  it  wasn't  for  her  that's  gone, 
and  them  that's  left,  I  would  do  it,  as  sure  as  you  are  born  !'-* 
shaking  her  fist  in  the  air.  "  Jest  as  if  I  didn't  know  what  he*g 
\ip  to  I  lie's  afraid  of  his  life,  lest  I  should  spend  his  riches  upoo 


128  NEMESIS. 

them  poor,  dear  Hales,  that  Eleanor  and  Bancroft  has  vaught 
nim  to  hate  so  !  The  harmless  creatures  !  what  they're  ever 
done  to  make  enemies  of  any  of  our  folks,  it  beats  me  to  find  out ! 
Tears  like  people  never  can  abide  them  they've  tried  to  injure. 
But  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  fall  in  with  such  ungrateful  devices 
and  stinginess,  you  are  vastly  mistaken  1"  She  shook  her  fist 
again.  "  I'm  obliged  to  you,  but  my  heart  ain't  quite  as  hard  as 
the  nether  millstone,  and  won't  be  before  next  week." 

The  sequence  of  this  soliloquy  was  a  visit  to  Mark's  cottage, 
after  supper,  that  evening.  As  she  walked  down  the  lane  in  the 
moonlight,  she  reproached  herself  for  having  seen  so  little  of  these 
friends,  since  the  cold  weather  had  set  in. 

"  But  I've  been  so  busy,  and  the  rheumatism  begins  to  plague 
me  so,  that  I  couldn't  come  oftener,"  she  concluded,  truthfully » 
"  and  they  don't  need  me  so  much  as  they  did  last  winter,  when 
they  knew  nobody  and  had  no  work." 

The  kitchen  was  bright  with  the  flame  of  a  lightwood  torch, 
fixed  on  the  inside  of  the  fireplace,  and  Bessy  sat  beneath  it 
with  her  needlework.  Kitty  had  gone  to  bed,  and  Mark  was  in 
the  great  chair,  directly  opposite  the  fire.  His  attitude  and  coun- 
tenance struck  Miss  Barbara  instantly,  and  her  solicitude  pre- 
vented her  from  observing  that  Bessy  gathered  up  her  sewing  and 
threw  it  behind  the  dresser. 

"  What  ails  you  ?"  asked  the  visitor,  of  Mark,  disdaining  irre- 
levant preliminaries.  "Sit  still,"  for  his  effort  to  rise  was  evi- 
dently painful. 

"  A  touch  of  my  old  enemy — the  rheumatism,"  he  said,  trying 
to  smile. 

"  A  touch  1  I  should  say  it  was  a  smart  crack  !  "When  waa 
you  taken  ?" 

"  A  fortnight  ago  ;  but  I  am  worse  within  the  last  week." 

"  Why  didn't  you  send  for  me  ?" 

"  It  seemed  too  bad  to  trouble  you  in  the  hurry  of  youi 


NEMESIS.  129 

rinter'B  work,"  said  Bessie.  "  We  have  hoped  every  day  that 
he  would  get  better.  He  had  one  long  spell  of  rheumatic  fever 
the  year  before  we  left  home  ;"  poor  child  !  the  word  slipped 
naturally  from  her  tongue,  now  that  she  was  in  sorrow — "  so  1 
knew  pretty  well  what  to  do  for  him.  I  suppose  that  in  a 
warmer  climate  there  is  less  fear  of  a  tedious  sickness.  He  will 
soon  be  about  again." 

Miss  Barbara  was  wisely  and  kindly  dumb  with  regard  to  a 
four  "  months'  bout "  of  hers,  to  which  she  was  fond  of  referring 
when  cases  of  protracted  sickness  were  upon  the  carpet. 

"  How  did  you  get  it  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  I  was  caught  in  the  rain  on  my  way  home  from  Mr.  Arini- 
Btead's,  where  I  had  been  to  carry  some  work." 

"  Haven't  been  able  to  do  a  stroke  since,  I  reckon  ?" 

"  Xot  a  stitch." 

Mark  colored  in  pronouncing  the  last  word,  and  glanced  from 
his  crippled  hands  to  his  wife's.  There  was  melancholy,  though 
unconscious  significance  in  the  look,  and  MLss  Barbara  would 
have  interpreted  it  rightly  had  she  noticed  Bessy's  occupation  at 
her  entrance.  To  end  the  awkward  pause,  she  opened  the  basket 
she  had  brought. 

"  You  are  an  angel,  Miss  Barbara  !"  exclaimed  Bessy,  with 
starting  tears.  Elijah  never  greeted  •  the  ravens  with  a  mow 
grateful  heart. 

MLss  Barbara  laughed — a  dry,  hoarse  chuckle,  that  seemed  to 
rattle  her  bones. 

"  An  odd-looking  angel,  dear!  Pair  of  chickens — sausage—- 
eggs " — setting  them  upon  the  table.  "  Honey  for  the  baby — 
bless  her  heart  !  I'm  sorry  she's  asleep.  Sugar — tea — I  sent  to 
Minor's  store  for  that  to-day,  so  I  know  it's  fresh.  Pot  of  jam 
• — blackberry,  and  mighty  wholesome  for  Mousey.  Pot  of  cur- 
rant jelly  ;  stir  a  spoonful  in  a  glass  of  water  and  there's  nothing 
nicer,  if  you  are  feverish,  Mr.  Hale.  A  dozen  apples — auu 

a* 


130  NEMESIS. 

them  you  jan  roast  if  you  like,  sir  ;  they're  downright  noarishinji 
eaten  that  way — and  that's  all.  Wish  it  was  twice  as  much." 

"How  could  you  bring  that  load  all  the  way  from  Ber 
Lomond  ?"  asked  Bessy. 

"  Pooh,  child  !  I  am  as  strong  as  an  elephant.  When  one 
arm  got  tired,  I  took  the  basket  on  the  other.  There's  a  lesson 
for  you  to  remember,  while  your  husband  is  complaining.  You 
must  pick  up  spirit,  and  take  all  the  weight  you  can  off  of  him." 

She  sat  down  with  her  knitting,  and  Bessy  reluctantly  resumed 
her  needle.  She  selected  the  least  remarkable  portion  of  the  gar- 
ment she  was  putting  together  ;  but  Miss  Barbara  was  quick  to 
note  that  it  could  belong  to  none  of  the  household. 

"  Taking  in  sewing  again,  I  see." 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Where  from  ?" 

"  It  is  for  one  of  Mr.  Slocum's  men." 

"  Wish  he  had  fifty,  instead  of  two ! 

"  That  sounds  mercenary  from  you,"  said  Mark,  rallying  nla 
spirits.  "  I  never  suspected  you  of  fortune-hunting  before." 

"  Nonsense  !" 

But  the  faded  lips  achieved  something  like  a  pout,  and  she 
tossed  her  head  as  coquettishly  as  Jessie  would  have  done  hi  her 
place.  No  woman  likes  to  be  set  outside  of  Love's  lists,  unless 
by  her  own  choice,  and  then,  the  practicability  of  her  ree'ntrance, 
at  will,  is  ever  a  pleasing  theme. 

"  It's  a  mighty  slim  market  a  fortin-hunter  would  find  in  him 
&nd  his  farm,  with  his  five  no-account  negroes  !  But  the  fellow's 
heart  is  nigher  the  right  place  than  that  of  many  a  man  who 
thinks  himself  his  better.  I'll  say  that  for  him  !" 

She  stayed  with  them  until  her  early  bed-tune,  and  took  he* 
leave  with  many  an  injunction  of  cheer  and  caution;  promising  to 
happen  hi,  every  chance  she  could  get,  and  see  how  they  wen 
getting  on. 


NEMESIS.  161 

And,  as  she  trudged  the  half  mile  that  lay  between  them  and 
13  en  Lomond,  haunted  by  the  memory  of  the  anxious  eyes  and 
toiling  fingers  of  the  young  wife,  she  wondered  if  she  were  not 
more  happy,  in  her  singlehood  and  isolation,  than  vrere  they,  each 
bearing  the  burden  of  the  other's  care. 

"  Our  Heavenly  Father  sent  her,  darling  I"  said  Mark,  thank 
fully,  drawing  his  wife's  weary  head  to  his  bosom.  "  It  may  be 
the  forerunner  of  other  and  greater  blessings.  It  certainlj 
reminds  us  that  those  who  trust  in  Him  shall  never  be  utteriv 

* 

"••st  down." 


132  NEMESIS 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  New  Year  found  Mark  confined  to  his  bed,  and  in  charge 
of  the  doctor.  He  was  loath  to  call  him  in  ;  but  Miss  Barbara 
and  Bessy  insisted  that  it  would  be  the  wisest  economy  to  use 
every  means  of  recovery  that  he  could  employ.  Dr.  Chase 
grumbled  that  the  delay  in  summoning  him  might  prove  a  for- 
midable obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  success,  and  then,  after  a 
private  hint  from  Miss  Barbara,  to  the  effect,  that  he  "needn't 
stint  in  medicine  and  visits,  for  fear  that  he  wouldn't  be  paid,"  he 
went  to  work  almost  as  earnestly  as  if  his  case  had  been  a  gentle- 
man and  not  a  common  "  person." 

The  Hales  had  expended  their  summer's  savings  in  the  payment 
of  the  last  quarter's  rent,  ending  in  November,  and  in  procuring 
the  actual  necessaries  of  life,  during  the  earlier  stages  of  Mark's 
sickness.  For  bread  for  herself  and  child,  and  the  modicum  of 
more  delicate  food,  demanded  by  her  husband's  situation,  Bessy 
now  toiled  assiduously.  Their  honest  pride  would  not  permit 
them  to  divulge  the  extremity  of  their  need,  even  to  the  staunch 
friend  Miss  Barbara  was  constantly  showing  herself  to  be.  They 
had  never  begged  directly  or  by  implication,  and  they  agreed,  in 
this  disastrous  day,  that  they  would  undergo  starvation  rather 
than  subsist  upon  charity  thus  ob tamed.  Miss  Barbara  took  care 
that  they  should  never  be  without  something  to  eat  in  the  house  ; 
but  her  resources  were  far  from  being  abundant,  and,  with  increas- 
ing  uneasiness,  she  began  to  foresee  the  tune  when  she  should 
have  done  her  all  for  them.  She  might,  indeed,  have  eluded  Mr 


NEMESIS.  133 

Argyle's  lynx  eyes,  by  false  entries,  aud  secret  appropriations,  had 
her  integrity  been  less  rigid  ;  but  this  was  never  thought  of — no! 
not  as  a  last  resource.  Once  in  a  while,  she  succeeded  in  pro- 
curing more  work  for  Bessy,  from  quarters  inaccessible  to  tht 
seamstress,  although  as  she  herself  seldom  went  from  home,  he" 
sphere  of  this  kind  of  action  was  circumscribed.  She  imagined 
besides,  that  the  ladies  to  whom  she  applied  were  careless  or 
unwilling  to  grant  her  request,  and  it  was  too  palpable  that  what 
Bhe  got  was  given  to  her  as  a  personal  favor,  and  not  to  the 
needy  woman. 

This  was  not  an  idle  fancy.  The  Hales  wtrt  unpopular  in  their 
neighborhood,  and,  singular  enough,  rich  and  poor  avoided  them 
for  the  same  reason.  "  They  were  above  their  station  ;  vulgar, 
pushing  people,  who  ought  to  be  taught  where  their  level  was." 
Scarcely  one  of  those  who  held  and .  promulgated  this  theory, 
could  have  stated  his  or  her  authority  for  its  belief ;  only  that 
"  everybody  said  so,"  and  "  it  was  reported  that  they  hud 
behaved  with  shameful  impertinence  and  ingratitude  toward  Mr. 
Argyle's  family  and  Mr.  Bancroft."  Aud  forthwith  the  strangers, 
orderly  and  industrious  as  they  had  appeared  in  times  past,  to 
unprejudiced  sight,  became  smoke  in  plebeian  eyes,  an  offence  to 
patrician  nostrils.  In  palliation  of  the  prevailing  neglect  of  a 
suffering  neighbor — disliked  though  he  might  be — we  must  remark 
that  destitution  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  so  unusual  in  southern 
rural  districts,  that  its  existence  was  never  supposed,  until  thrust 
upon  the  attention  of  the  wondering  inhabitants  by  glaring  facts. 
Then,  too,  the  country  was  sparsely  settled,  and  the  secluded 
habits  of  the  northern  family,  joined  to  their  want  of  any  means 
of  conveyance  from  place  to  place,  had  prevented  their  peculiar 
circumstances  from  being  generally  understood.  If  the  smal] 
farmer,  near  by,  heard  that  the  shoemaker  at  "  Argyle's  cro.-.-i 
6>ads  "  was  sick,  he  gave  his  custom  to  the  nearest  colored  man 
v>'\\o  plied  the  trade,  and  took  to  further  thought  aboul  ih« 


NEMESIS. 

matter.  Wheu  ht,  had  the  rheumatism,  he  lay  around  the  honse^ 
and  enjoyed  what  ease  the  disease  left  him  at  liberty  to  take. 
The  cattle  were  cared  for  ;  ditto  the  negroes  ;  ditto  the  winter^ 
supply  of  woodj  corn,  and  bacon.  That  any  man  in  a  Christian 
land  should  want  any,  much  less  all  of  these,  was  a  problem  aa 
unknown,  not  to  say  unsolved  by  him,  as  was  the  famine  amongst 
the  canaille,  to  the  French  princess,  who  "  would  be  willing  to 
eat  bread  instead  of  cake,  sooner  than  starve." 

There  was  one  partial  exception  to  this  rule  in  Mr.  Slocuin, 
But  for  his  thoughtful  kiudness,  our  emigrants  must  have  frozen, 
if  not  starved,  in  that  hard  whiter.  He  knew  less  of  their  con 
dition  than  did  Miss  Barbara;  yet,  having  an  indistinct  idea  thaV 
sick  men  could  not  work,  and  that  women  were  weaker  than  well 
men,  he  sent  weekly  a  load  of  wood,  which  his  man  had  orders  to 
cut,  split,  and  pile,  wherever  it  would  be  most  convenient  for  Mrs 
Hale  to  have  it.  So  far  from  cherishing  any  grudge  against 
them  for  their  former  preference  for  the  Ben  Lomond  dairy  above 
his,  he  put  'Polio  again  upon  his  old  beat,  and,  in  all  weathers 
the  boy  trotted  every  day,  over  the  mile  of  muddy  or  frozen 
ground,  with  a  pail  of  milk  for  Kitty.  Whether  or  not,  these 
acts  of  unostentatious  beneficence  induced  Miss  Barbara  to  look 
more  benignantly  upon  her  suitor,  surely,  One  who  could  read  the 
heart  incased  in  that  ungainly  shell,  saw  the  merciful  deed,  and 
remembered  him  for  good.  These  were  the  only  gleams  of  light 
from  without.  Love  divine,  and  the  human  affection  of  the 
parents  and  child,  supplied  whatever  else  of  brightness  there 
was  in  the  shadowed  household.  It  is  trying  to  the  most 
resigned  to  lie  useless  and  helpless  upon  his  couch  of  languishing, 
Bet  carefully  without  the  thronged  path  of  busy  life  ;  yet  with  its 
din  penetrating  his  ears  ;  its  rush  and  whirl  jarring  his  nen  °,s  • 
even  if  he  can  be  spared  from  the  battle-field.  But  to  know 
that  with  every  minute  of  inaction,  are  passing  rcturnless  oppor 
families  of  acquiring  comfort  and  honor  ;  to  be  tended  thi'oug] 


H  EME6I8  .  135 

sleepless  vigils  and  days  of  paii_,  by  Penury  and  Disgrace — gaunt; 
inexorable  handmaids,  ready  to  pounce  upon  all  that  he  h<dd 
precious — this  was  poor  Hale's  fate. 

And  so  one  sad  day  was  added  to  another,  and  the  toilsome 
weeks  grew  into  the  months  that  were  bringing,  all  too  fast,  the 
dreaded  pay-day,  for  which  there  was  no  provision  made.  It 
appears  strange  that  this,  the  most  threatening  cloud  that 
brooded  upon  the  spirits  of  her  friends,  never  onct,  Crossed  Miss 
Barbara's  mind.  If  she  ever  reflected  upon  the  subject,  it  was 
in  the  supposition  that  Mark  had,  in  conformity  with  the  custom 
of  that  country,  hired  the  cottage  by  the  year.  The  bit  of  sharp 
practice  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Sancroft,  which  prevented  unsafe 
arrears,  by  demanding  quarterly  instalments,  was  a  novel  ar- 
rangement in  the  vicinity,  a  fact,  of  which,  as  may  be  supposed, 
Mark  was  ignorant  when  the  bargain  was  made.  The  benevo- 
lent spinster  had  her  own  distractions,  too,  just  then.  Her  letter 
to  Malcolm  remained  unanswered,  and  tired  ojf  inventing  excuses 
to  herself  for  this  delay,  she  had  determined  to  write  again  to  jog 
his  memory,  when  her  thoughts  were  called  off  in  another  direction. 

She  had  but  one  near  relative  in  the  world;  an  older  sister 
who  had  married  thirty  years  before,  and  removed  to  the  western 
part  of  the  State,  then  a  wilderness,  filled  with  fabulous  dangers 
to  the  imaginations  of  dwellers  in  the  east.  Ten  years  of  silence 
between  the  sisters  had  begotten  in  Miss  Barbara's  mind  a  con- 
viction of  the  other's  death.  It  was  like  a  voice  from  the  spirit 
land  when  she  received  a  letter,  penned  in  a  trembling  and 
unpractised  hand,  from  the  long-lost  relation,  representing  herself 
as  being  hi  a  hopeless  decline,  surrounded  by  few  outward  com 
forts  and  fewer  friends,  anid  pining  to  see  and  bless  her  sister  once 
more,  before  closing  her  eyes  upon  earth. 

Miss  Barbara  commenced  packing,  without  stopping  to  refold 
t)fe  letter  ;  cran  jned  the  small  trunk  she  judged  to  be  sufficiently 
commodious  for  her  wants  ;  snapped  to  the  hasp  and  pocketed 


136  NEMK8I8  . 

the  key  ;  counted  her  not  large  hoard  of  money  into  a  stout 
buckskin  purse,  and  pocketed  that,  before  she  said  a  word  to  a 
living  soul  of  her  contemplated  journey.  Then  she  went  in 
search  of  Mr.  Argyle.  He  was  at  the  sheep-pen  with  the  over- 
seer; and  leaning  on  the  top  rail,  his  jaw  hanging  as  usual,  was 
Mr.  Slocum,  quite  at  his  ease.  True,  Mr.  Argyle  regarded  him 
less  than  he  did  the  most  indifferent  woolly  coat  in  the  flock,  and 
Frisbie,  although  kindly  disposed  toward  his  inofleusive  associate, 
often  barely  concealed  his  impatience  at  having  him  "hanging 
around,  when  he'd  better  be  at  hame,  spiering  after  his  am 
gear."  In  her  excitement,  Miss  Barbara  did  not  observe  him,  or 
indeed  anything  else,  beside  the  person  whom  she  had  come  to 
seek.  In  her  terse  style,  she  communicated  the  news  of  th« 
summons  she  had  had,  and  her  resolution  with  regard  to  it. 

She  was  not  disappointed,  still  less  was  she  shaken  by  the 
laird's  attempted  dissuasion.  The  distance,  the  roads,  the  dearth 
of  public  conveyances,  the  weather,  the  fatigue,  and  risk  to  a 
person  of  her  age  and  inexperience  in  travelling,  the  impro- 
bability that  she  would  find  her  sister  alive  when  she  reached  the 
place  of  her  residence  ;  these  objections  Miss  Barbara  spurned, 
like  so  many  pebbles,  from  her  path.  He  took  a  higher  tone, 
and  declaring  flatly  that  she  could  not  be  spared  from  home, 
informed  her  that  if  she  persevered  in  her  crazy  scheme,  she  must 
seek  out  the  ways  and  means  for  its  accomplishment  herself.  No 
horse  or  servant  of  his  should  render  her  any  assistance. 

"  I'll  go,  for  all  that  1"  she  said,  stamping  her  foot,  a  la 
Galileo,  and  turning  to  leave  him. 

She  had  gone  about  twenty  yards,  when  she  heard  a  shuffling 
tread  in  pursuit ;  then,  a  husky  cough,  that  solicited  her  notice. 
She  faced  right  about,  so  squarely,  that  her  admirer,  puffing 
already  with  tin  swift  gait  at  which  he  had  been  compelled  tc 
move  to  overtake  her,  could  only  stand  and  pant  ;  his  cye&  roll 
ing  and  his  jaw  swinging  more  loosely  than  ever. 


NEMESIS.  137 

"  Well  I"  said  Miss  Barbara,  bluntly,  "  speak  out  1" 

"  I've  got  a  gig — and  a  horse — and — and — I  was  meaning  ful 
to  —I  was  intending  all  along — to  go  over  the  mountains,  myself, 
about  this  week  or  next.  It's  cold  travelling,  I  know,  and  the 
gig  is  open — but  shawls  and  blanke.ts  and  hot  bricks  " 

Here  the  engine  gave  out,  and  Miss  Barbara  stood  and  looked 
at  him. 

"  Anything  in  the  shape  of  a  decent  man,  that  can  hold  tho 
reins  and  his  own  tongue  !"  Such  were  her  deliberations.  "  I 
don't  know  but  he  will  suit  better  for  being  such  a  ninny.  I  can 
manage  him.  He's  a  good-hearted  goose,  anyway.  I'll  go  1' 
she  said  aloud,  "  and  much  cbliged  to  you,  too  !" 

"  When  ?" 

"  To-morrow  morning — if  you  can  be  ready  so  soon." 

"  To  be  sure  I  can  I"  he  said,  with  surprising  alacrity,  and  they' 
walked  away  in  opposite  directions,  his  heart  so  jubilant  with  the 
joy  of  anticipation,  that  it  drowned  the  voice  of  conscience,  accu 
sing  him  of  the  only  downright  lie  he  had  told,  within  his  recol- 
lection, for  as  the  intelligent  reader  has  surmised,  he  had  no  more 
idea,  an  hour  previous,  of  visiting  the  Blue  Ridge,  than  of  under- 
taking an  expedition  to  the  lunar  mountains. 

"  Mr.  Slocum  !" 

She  was  retracing  her  steps.  Had  she  reconsidered  the  mat- 
ter ?  A  cold  sweat  broke  out  all  over  him,  and  his  great  feet 
overlapped  each  other,  more  awkwardly  than  was  customary  even 
with  them,  as  he  tried  to  meet  her. 

"  I  was  thinking  " 

"  I  was  afraid  so  !  It's  always  the  way  with  me  !"  groaned 
poor  Slocum,  inwardly. 

*  "  I  was  thinking,"  said  Miss  Barbara,  looking  troubled,  "  that 
thpse  good  folks,  the  Hales,  may  not  get  on  so  well,  for  our 
being  away.  'Spose  we  do  what  we  can  to  make  them  comiurt- 
able,  before  we  go.  A  couple  of  loads  of  wood,  and  leave  order* 


138  NEMESIS. 

that  the  milk  shall  be  sent  regular.  You  understand  ?  And 
I'll  make  up  a  basket  of  things  for  'em  to-day." 

"  Um,  hum  !"  he  nodded,  too  happy  in  this  relief  of  his 
fears  to  speak  plainly. 

That  night,  Bessy  wrote  a  letter  at  her  husband's  dictation,  to 
Malcolm  Argyle.  He  was  the  only  plank  between  them  and 
ruin.  Pay-day  would  be  upon  them  before  he  could  possibly  get, 
much  less  answer  the  call  they  hau  promised  to  make,  in  the 
event  of  any  strait  which  he  could  enlarge.  How  little  had  they 
then  anticipated  an  emergency  like  this !  Their  hope  was  that 
Mr.  Sancroft  would  not  esteem  it  worth  while  to  eject  them  at 
the  expiration  of  the  term  ;  that  past  punctuality  would  be  some 
security  for  future  payment.  It  showed  their  just  appreciation 
of  the  man,  that  neither  of  them  once  suggested  an  appeal  to 
bis  humanity.  He  had  never  been  near  them  since  Mark  hac\ 
declared  non-intercourse.  His  November  collection  was  made 
through  his  son,  a  lad  of  sixteen,  already  the  confidential  book- 
keeper in  a  neighboring  store,  and  a  promising  follower  in  his 
father's  footsteps,  so  far  as  unblushing  assurance  and  devotion  to 
gain  went. 

Bessy  wrote  silently  all  that  Mark  wished  to  say.  tt  was  a 
calm  statement  of  their  impoverished  condition,  ending  with  a 
reference  to  the  pledge  Malcolm  had  asked  and  received  at  part- 
ing, and  an  engagement  that  whatever  aid  he  might  extend  to 
them,  in  their  need,  would  be  considered  as  a  sacred  loan,  to  be 
repaid  with  the  return  of  health  and  custom.  It  was  directed 
and  sealed,  and  Bessy  laid  it  aside,  to  take,  on  the  morrow,  to 
"  the  store,"  where  the  post-office  was  also  kept.  Mark's  bed 
had  been  rem  Dved  into  the  larger  and  warmer  room,  and  he  had 
Dot  left  it  now  for  some  weeks.  The  masses  of  his  brown  hail 
were  very  dark,  by  contrast  with  the  face  they  shaded,  and  the 
eyes,  once  so  full  of  hope  and  life,  were  sunken  and  dimmed. 
Instead  of  the  frank,  buoyant  expression  that  used  to  impress  th« 


NEMESIS. 

beholder  with  an  instinctive  perception  of  the  energy  and  sat* 
guine  to1  iperament  of  the  man,  there  was  now  a  patient  sweet- 
it  told  of  resignation  to  trials,  that  were  yet  eating  i  ito 
his  soul. 

Be<sy  took  up  her  needle  again.  It  was  their  sole  dependence, 
and  in  its  slenderness  and  brittleness  was  a  fit  type  of  the  pre- 
carious nature  of  that  support.  The  drooping  head  must  bend 
over  it,  for  hours  to  come,  ere  its  needed  rest  was  sought.  Mark's 
regards  were  fastened  upon  his  wife,  yearningly.  The  sharpest 
thorn  in  his  pillow  was  the  sight  of  her  privations  and  drudgery, 
and  the  recollection  that  it  was  endured  for  him.  She  did  not 
repine  aloud.  Her  voice  was  gentle  to  Kitty  ;  yet  more  tender 
to  him.  The  playful  humor  that  had  made  more  merry  their 
prosperous  days,  was  not  wanting  now  to  beguile  him  from 
thoughts  of  pain  and  weariness,  and  as  she  went  about  the  house, 
busied  in  domestic  duties,  she  sang,  as  she  had  ever  done — no  one 
but  himself  could  dream,  with  what  an  aching  heart  He  could 
not  ask  her  to  forbear  this  hardest  effort  of  loving  deceit ;  but, 
sometimes,  he  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  fairly  wept,  as  the 
blithe  carol  was  borne  to  his  ears  from  the  adjoining  room.  -  She 
believed  that  he  had  fallen  asleep  now,  for  his  face  was  hi 
shadow,  and  the  gloom  she  fought  with,  when  it  would  enfold 
him  with  her,  under  its  wings,  brooded  over  her  features.  There 
were  lines  in  the  brow,  and  a  sullen  malignity  in  the  eye  that 
made  Mark  shudder.  The  pressure  that,  in  crushing  his  heart, 
filled  the  moral  atmosphere  with  fragrance,  was  extracting  poison 
from  hers.  If  she  would  speak,  and  tell  him  the  desperate 
th  -lights  that  assailed  her  spirit — its  temptations  to  hatred  nf 
V'  n,  and  blasphemous  murmurs  against  her  God  ! 
.  '  Bessy,"  he  said,  softly,  "  what  are  ycu  thinking  of?" 

The  question  took  Imr  by  surprise. 

*Of  you,  Mark." 

*-And  what  else  ?" 


140  NEMESIS. 

She  ckohed  down  her  work,  and,  throwing  herself  upon  hig 
bed,  broke  into  a  flood  of  stormy  sorrow,  the  current  so  long  and 
painfully  confined  to  her  own  breast. 

"  What  have  you  done,  my  good,  precious  husband,  to  be  des- 
pised and  deserted  in  this  way  ? — to  be  left  without  a  single 
friend  except  your  wife  and  child  ?  You,  who  never  did  an 
unkind  or  a  dishonest  thing  ;  who  have  always  tried  to  make 
others  happy  !  No  man  can  point  his  finger  to  one  sin  you  ever 
committed  ;  yet  if  you  were  the  worst  criminal  that  ever  lived, 
you  could  not  be  made  to  suffer  more.  Oh  !  is  it  strange  that 
my  heart  breaks  when  I  think  of  it  ?— -that  I  am  ready  to  curse 
the  ungrateful,  unfeeling  wretches  that  are  chasing  you  down, 
like  a  hunted  wild  beast  ?  I  hate  them  1  Oh  !  how  I  hate 
them  1" 

"  Dear,  dear  Bessy  !  poor  little  wife  !"  Mark  passed  his 
trembling  hand  over  her  head.  "  You  do  love  me  1  I  cannot 
be  unhappy  when  I  remember  this,  and  it  is  never  forgotten. 
My  darling  is  worn  out  with  working  and  nursing,  and  this 
makes  her  see  things  differently  from  what  she  will  to-morrow 
morning.  It  is  not  man,  but  the  Lord,  who  has  laid  me  and 
kept  me  here,  Bessy.  Think  of  dear  Miss  Barbara,  and  cf  Mr, 
Slocum's  goodness.  No  one  else  knows  how  badly  off  we  are 
And  who  can  tell  what  may  happen  in  our  behalf  in  &L&  days  ? 
We  certainly  shall  not  starve  before  that  time,  for  th«i  stock  of 
provisions  our  friend  left  with  us  this  afternoon  will  last  so  long — 
if  we  get  no  more.  Then  comes  the  crisis — pay-d_-y.  Don't 
tromble  so,  dear  wife  1  It  is  better  to  look  the  mon-iter  in  the 
fcyes,  and  see  if  he  is  not  less  terrible  than  we  have  thought.  If 
we  have  no  money,  we  cannot  pay  the  rent.  There  is  no  disput- 
ing that.  Now,  Mr.  Sancroft  knows  that  the  law  hands  over  my 
furniture  to  my  landlord,  in  case  I  fail  to  satisfy  him  in  any  other 
way.  The  furniture  is  here,  and  there  is  no  danger  of  my 
absconding  with  it  at  present " — smiling  at  the  melancholy  jest 


NEMESIS.  141 

''What  can  lie  gain  by  pressing  matters,  except  the  reputation 
of  having  cruelly  turned  out  a -helpless,  sick  tenant,  who  never 
tried  to  shirk  a  just  debt ;  but  only  asked,  like  the  servant  we 
read  of  in  the  Gospel — '  Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay 
thee  all  ?'  He  dislikes  me,  it  is  true;  but  he  likes  popularity,  and 
so  sure  as  he  carries  out  the  letter  of  the  law  against  me,  just  so 
certainly  will  his  reputation  suffer.  All  men  feel  pity  for  the 
oppressed." 

"  '  And  on  the  side  of  their  oppressors,  there  was  power  ?  r  said 
Bessy,  impressively. 

Mark  started  at  the  quotation,  and  his  brow  contracted  ;  then, 
recovering  himself,  he  proceeded  as  if  she  had  not  interrupted 
him  : 

"  So  you  see,  as  he  may  lose  something,  and  can  make  nothing 
by  severity,  he  will,  very  likely,  wait  a  month  or  more — perhaps 
another  quarter,  and  by  that  time  we  will  have  heard  from  young 
Mr.  Argyle.  Should  we  not,  and  no  other  alternative  should 
appear,  I  think  Mr.  Slocum  will  be  my  security,  although  I  would 
uot  ask  it  of  him.  At  any  rate,  he  will  offer  bail  to  keep  me  out 
of  prison." 

"  Prison  P  almost  screamed  Bessy.  "  Mark,  Mark  !  I  will  die 
before  they  shall  take  you  there  ?  Oh  !  is  the  law  so  cruel  as 
that  ?» 

"  Be  quiet,  dearest.  Better  men  than  I  have  spent  years  in 
jail,  end  their  children  have  gloried  in  it.  But  you  will  please 
understand,  Mrs.  Hale,  that  we  are  not  going  there  at  all — at 
least  not  for  this  offence.  Have  not  I  made  out  as  plain  a  case 
as  Mr.  Saucvoft's  eyebrows  could  have  done  ?" 

"But,  Mark,  it  is  dreadful  to  think  of  your  being  at  the  mercy 
tf  that  man  !" 

f"  I  am  not,  Bessy  ;  I,  with  my  dear  ones,  am  in  the  hands  of 
the  merciful  Father r  He  looked  reverently  and  peacvfnllj 
upward. 


143  NEMESIS. 

Bessy's  evil  spirit  goaded  her  on. 

"  Is  it  merciful  in  Him  to  rob  ycu  of  one  comfort  aftef 
knother ;  to  leave  you  in  the  power  of  your  enemies — the  only 
enemies  you  have  in  the  world — and  call  away  the  friends  who 
might  have  helped  you,  at  the  very  time  when  you  most  needed 
them  ?  I  feel  as  if  our  troubles  were  hedging  us  in  on  every 
eide  ;  as  if  we  were  forgotten  by  the  God  whom  you  have  served 
so  well.  I  deserve  nothing  better  from  Him,  and  if  I  might  bear 
His  judgments  alone,  I  could  see  some  justice  in  it  all.  But  no  ; 
the  heaviest  burden  rests  upon  you.  I  cannot  endure  it  !  It 
cannot  be  right ;  it  is  not  merciful  !" 

"  Have  you  forgotten  so  soon,  Bessy  ?  '  Wait  on  the  Lord 
and  be  of  good  courage,  and  He  shall  strengthen  your  heart ;  wait, 
I  say,  on  the  Lord.'  If  we  could  see  the  meaning  of  His  deal 
ings  as  he  sends  them,  why  should  we  be  told  to  '  wait?' " 

'Twixt  hope  and  fear  six  days  went  by — seven — and  the  Hales 
were  beginning  to  wonder  if  Mr.  Sancroftfs  memory  had  not 
played  him  false  for  once,  where  lucre  was  involved,  when  the 
eighth  brought  his  smart  heir  and  factotum. 

More  laconically  than  his  sire  would  have  done,  he  presented  his 
claim,  and  awaited  its  payment.  Mark  was  prepared  for  him, 
and  as  concisely  laid  before  him  the  existing  state  of  his  affairs 
and  his  proposed  compromise. 

"  Couldn't  think  of  it,"  replied  the  lad,  briskly;  "  It's  a  ticklish 
business — this  credit  system.  Don't  believe  in  it  myself  ;  neither 
does  pa  ;  neither  does  Mr.  Argyle.'  Pay,  or  be  sold  out  and 
tramp.  Them's  my  orders." 

Mark's  wan  cheek  burned  at  the  impertinence ;  but  he 
restrained  himself  and  expostulated,  pointing  out  the  advantage 
that  his  landlord  might  find  ir.  waiting,  and  the  impossibility  that 
he  could  gain  anything  by  immediate  seizure  of  hia  effects  and 
ejectment. 

"  There's  where  you're  mistaken,"  returned  the  clerk,  still  mora 


NEMESIS.  143 

rndely.  "We  are  not  scared  about  the  quarter  that's  gor.a 
Your  '  duds '  here  will  cover  that."  He  walked  to  the  mid<31e 
door  and  glanced  into  the  other  room.  "  Not  good  for  much  ; 
but  we'll  take  them  and  say  nothing  about  the  deficiency.  -But 
you  will  please  recollect,  my  fine  fellow,  that  you  are  bound  for 
the  next  three  mouths,  not  having  given  notice  that  you  intended 
to  leave,  and  having  already  overran  your  time  by  a  couple  of 
days.  And  that  reminds  me  of  another  bit  of  a  document  I  have 
for  you.  I'm  collector-general  for  this  region." 

He  tossed  a  folded  slip  of  paper  on  the  bed.  Mark  read  it 
calmly.  "  Dr.  Chase's  bill,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  who  watched  him 
in  speechless  terror.  ;<  I  did  not  expect  this  until  the  close  of  my 
illness,"  continued  he  to  young  Sancroft.  "  I  have  no  funds 
with  which  to  meet  it." 

"  So  I  told  him,"  grinned  the  collector;  "  I  reckon  you  would 
not  have  been  blessed  with  a  sight^of  it  yet  awhile,  if  it  hadu't 
have  been  that  he  agreed  with  me.  He  cut  his  eye-teeth  about 
the  same  time  that  pa  did  his  ;  I  was  born  with  mine,  I  reckon, 
for  I  never  saw  the  chap  yet  that  could  get  the  blind  side  of  me 
in  a  bargain.  Heard  from  Malcol  \  Argyle,  lately  ?  Maybe  he 
would  help  you  out  of  this  scrape." 

There  was  a  sinister  leer  in  his  face  that  both  husband  and 
wife  noted  ;  but  neither  had  the  steadiness  of  brain  to  ascribe  it 
to  any  other  cause  than  the  malicious  triumph  of  a  bad-hearted 
boy,  to  whose  coarse  handling  their  case  had  been  committed, 
without  reservation. 

"  The  law  must  take  its  course,"  said  Mark,  his  native  dignity 
rising  to  sustain  him,  in  the  utterance  of  his  sentence. 

"D'ye  know  what  that  is  ?"  queried  the  imp,  facetiously. 

"  Imprisonment,  I  suppose." 

/  "  Pre-zactly  !  I  say  !  you  don't  seem  to  mind  it  much.     Beea 
there  before,  maybe  ?     When  will  you  be  ready  to  start  ?" 

"  Not  before  to-morrow  noon.   What  is  the  distance  to  the  jail  ?* 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

"  Twelve  miles — long  measure — and  the  mud  up  to  tne  bubfe 
Hut  everything  is  very  comfortable  after  you  get  there.  Old 
Mammy  Paxton  keeps  the  tavern  at  the  court-house,  and  tha 
jail,  of  course.  You'll  get  first-rate  fodder  and  lodgings,  at  the 
expense  of  the  county." 

"  My  wife,  and  child  can  go  with  me — I  suppose  ?" 

"Why  yes!  I  don't  see  why  they  shouldn't.  You  will 
have  to  pay  "  Mammy "  for  their  feed,  I  reckon,  but  you've 
plenty  of  money,  so  you  won't  mind  that.  The  cart  will  hold 
you  all.  The  law  leaves  you  your  bed  and  your  tools.  You  can 
put  the  bed  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart,  and  go  quite  stylish-like — 
you  understand.  Your  tools  will  help  to  amuse  you,  until  yon 
can  hear  from  your  brother  Malcolm.  Won't  he  cuss,  until  all's 
blue,  when  he  knows  what  a  turn  I'm  serving  him,  in  locking 
you  up — his  bosom  friend  ?  I  am  in  his  debt,  to  the  tune  of  a 
licking,  he  gave  me,  at  school,  three  years  ago.  I  reckon  this 
will  pay  him  off,  tolerable  handsome." 

"  If  you  have  finished  your  business  with  me,  you  can  go  I" 
Baid  Mark,  pointing  to~the  door. 

The  lad  roared  with  wicked  merriment. 

"  Like  father — like  son  1"  you  think,  hey  ?  You  ordered  him 
out,  and  don't  want  to  be  backward  in  the  politeness  to  npe  ? 
And  our  turn  will  come,  to-morrow.  At  '  noon '  you  said,  that's 
Massachusetts  Yankee  for  twelve  o'clock  I  believe.  The  car- 
riage will  be  *t  your  door,  punctual  1" 


HXMEBI8.  145 


CHAPTER  XI. 

'a  Attest  supply  of  needlework  was  from  Mrs.  Blanken- 
,  a  vir'.ow,  whose  farm,  of  some  fifty  acres,  adjoined  that  of 
Mi.  Slocuni.  There  was  no  one  by  whom  the  bundle  could  be 
sent  that  day,  and  in  view  of  the  morrow's  changes,  it  was  neces- 
i»ary  that  the  finished  garment  should  be  returned  without  delay. 

Leaving  Mark  in  charge  of  the  obedient  and  devoted  Kitty, 
the  wife  set  out,  that  afternoon,  for  the  walk. 

The  uklow  examined  the  sewing,  critically,  found  fault  with  a 
button-hole,  and  reckoned  that  she  had  so  much  work,  she  thought 
she  could  afford  to  slight  all,  except  what  the  '  quality '  gave  her. 

Bessy  made  no  reply. 

"  That  ain't  my  way  I"  continued  Mrs.  Blankenship,  fumbling 
in  her  bosom  for  her  purse.  "  I  heerd  tha*  you  got  your  livin' 
by  sewin',  and  'sposed  you'd  like  to  keep  a  customer,  so  long  as 
she  was  willin'  and  able  fur  to  pay  you.  'Twont  do  for  poor 
folks  to  take  on.  airs,  as  I  told  Miss  Barbary,  when  I  promised, 
to  pkase  her,  that  you  should  have  that  'ere  pair  of  breeches  to 
make."  You'll  find  it  up-hill  work,  settiu'  up  for  a  gnudee.  And 
another  piece  of  advice,  I've  got  for  you,  is  this.  B'ar  in  mind, 
that  a  man's  book-larniu'  and  his  wife's  face  and  ladyfied  ways, 
won't  put  bread  in  their  young  one's  mouth.  Thar's  your  pay  ! 
Crooduess  me  1  You  needn't  snatch  my  hand  off  to  git  it, 
wi/m<m  !  And,  look  here,  I  don't  think  I'll  erer  have  no  mory 
work  for  you  1" 

Tlu  latter  sentence  was  spoken  in  a  raised  voice,  to  reach  tk« 

7 


H  6  NEMESIS. 

ears  of  the  retreating  Bessy.  Mrs.  Blankenship  went  to  th« 
window  to  watch  her,  as  she.  walked  down  the  lane. 

"A  forward,  flighty Jiussey  I"  she  said  to  her  daughter,  who 
had  sat  by  during  the  interview.  "  It  did  me  good  to  take  her 
down  a  peg.  Did  you  see  how  fierce  she  stared  at  me,  while  I 
was  talkin'  ?  Deliver  me  from  poor  white  folks !  Niggers  is 
twice  as  respectable." 

Bessy's  wrath  at  the  unprovoked  insult  offered  her,  carried  hei 
on  very  rapidly  until  she  lost  sight  of  the  house  by  entering;  th« 
woods.  There  was  no  beaten  path,  and  every  footstep  djsturbec 
the  rotting  masses  of  dead  leaves,  several  inches  deep.  There 
were  still  heaps  of  dry  ones  in  hollows,  and  entangled  in  the 
bushes,  and  their  rustling  brought  the  recollection  of  the  gloomy 
November  afternoon,  when  the  strong  man,  so  feeble  now,  had 
set  her  down  amongst  them  and  welcomed  her  to  the  home  from 
which  they  were  to  be  ignominiously  driven.  All  day,  she  had 
imprisoned  her  lamentations  in  her  heart ;  and  in  Mark's  presence 
she  must  continue  to  perform  the  difficult  task.  She  had  no  tears; 
but  she  sobbed  until  she  was  exhausted,  instead  of  relieved,  as  she 
eat  upon  the  mossy  roots  of  a  tree,  and  held  her  aching  temples 
tightly  between  her  palms.  The  wind  sighed  past  her,  and  the 
branches  rocked  and  groaned  above  her  head.  She  recognized 
no  sympathetic  chord  in  the.  mourning  of  Nature  over  its  dear 
Summer.  It  was  all  too  gay  and  joyous  for  her;  for  breeze,  and 
the  pale  winter  sunlight,  and  leafless  boughs  were  free,  and  he — 
thrir  Maker's  noblest  work — was  not — perhaps  mighj  never  b« 
again  ! 

"  A  pleasant  day  for  the  season,  Mrs.  Hale  !" 

She  knew  the  intruder,  after  a  second  of  alarm  at  his  proximity 
and  address.  She  had  seen  him  repeatedly  in  close  attendance 
upon  Miss  Argyle,  walking  and  riding  by  the  cottage,  and 
learned,  from  Miss  Barbara,  that  he  was  a  Mr.  Moreau,  and 
supposed  to  be  Eleanor's  most  favored  admirer.  He  was  equipped 


NEMESIS.  147 

for  banting,  and  perhaps  thought  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  pass 
the  compliments  of  the  day  with  a  tenant  of  his  host  when  he 
happened  to  meet  her.  The  disproportionate  rank  of  the  two 
excused  his  not  waiting  for  other  introduction.  Her  angry 
impulse  to  resent  the  freedom  checked  by  these  reflections,  she 
courtesied  silently,  in  reply  to  his  civility,  and  walked  on. 

"  How  is  your  husband  to-day  ?"  he  said,  joining  her. 

''  About  the  same,  sir,"  she  replied,  with  extreme  coldness 

<:  He  is  a  great  sufferer,  is  he  not  ?" 

11  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  your  own  health — is  it  injured  by  your  labors  of  love  in 
his  service  ?"  he  pursued,  with  more  familiarity,  but  maintaining 
his  respectful  manner. 

"  No,  sir." 

Bessy  walked  faster,  and  he  kept  pace  with  her. 

"  You  have  a  lovely  child,  Mrs.  Hale — about  six  years  old,  1 
should  imagine  ;  is  she  not  ?" 

"  She  is  not  yet  five." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  She  is  large  of  her  age.  Yet  she  is  more 
graceful  than  the  generality  of  fast-growing  children.  She  must 
be  a  comfort  to  you  both,  in  her  father's  illness.  How  mild  the 
air  is !  It  is  just  the  weather  for  an  invalid  to  venture  out  for 
the  first  time." 

Bessy  glanced  up  at  him  quickly.  In  her  sensitive  pride,  she 
fancied  that  their  crowning  misfortune  was  public,  and  that  this 
chance  remark  was  a  wantonly  cruel  allusion  to  it.  She  en- 
countered a  gaze  of  unequivocal  admiration,  that  brought  the 
modest  blood  in  torrents  to  her  face,  and  caused  her  to  hurry 
toward  the  road,  now  in  sight,  through  the  thinning  forest. 

"It  is  a  pity  that  your  brilliant  complexion  should  be  faded 
\>f  the  confinement  of  a  sick-room  I  You  are  a  very  beau t if  J 
roinan,  my  dear  madam." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  tell  me  so,  or  f" 


148  NEMESIS. 

"  My  exaltca  admiration  for  such  charms ;  tht  waTmth  of  ic) 

regard  for  their  owner,  gives  me  the  right " But  they  were  at 

the  road. 

A  fence  divided  it  from  the  woods,  and  the  gentleman,  vaulting 
over,  offered  to  assist  his  companion.  She  refused,  by  a  negative 
gesture,  but  in  her  haste  and  confusion  her  foot  slipped,  and  he 
caught  her  arm  to  save  her  from  falling. 

At  this  unlucky  moment,  Sarah,  the  principal  housemaid  at  Ben 
Lomond,  trotted  by  on  horseback.  She  stared  broadly  and  sus- 
piciously at  the  pair — a  scrutiny  under  which  Bessy  felt  herself 
blush  yet  more  deeply,  and.  her  officious  cavalier  looked  foolish 
and  guilty.  The  interruption,  however,  relieved  her  of  his  further 
attentions. 

With  a  "  Good  evening,  madam,"  he  whistled  to  his  dog,  and 
struck  off  into  the  forest  on  the  other  side  of  the  road. 

Sarah's  appearance  suggested  a  train  of  thought  to  Bessy  that 
banished  the  tumultuous  emotions  aroused  by  Mr.  Moreau'a 
gallantries  and  the  woman's  peculiar  look.  Desperate  as  was  the 
exigency,  it  cost  her  a  severe  and  prolonged  struggle  before  she 
could  trample  personal  feeling  and  pride  under  foot,  and  resolve 
to  brave  her  husbnnd's  disapprobation,  and  further  contumely  from 
the  family  whose  debt  of  gratitude  to  Mark  and  herself  had  becu 
repaid  so  basely. 

Miss  Barbara's  absence  from  Ben  Lomond  would  have  been 
inconvenient,  in  any  circumstances  ;  but,  at  this  time,  it  aeemed 
an  irremediable  misfortune.  Preparations  for  a  large  party  had 
been  commenced  before  her  departure,  and  the  invitations  sent 
out.  Jessie  had  cried  and  Eleanor  stormed  at  the  preposterous  idea 
of  allowing  a  dying  sister's  request  to  outweigh  their  will  and 
pleasure,  yet — as  we  have  seen,  MiSs  Barbara  went  on  her  way, 
without  wavering.  .She  represented  to  the  disconsolate  maidens, 
that  M'ss  Nancy  Wilkinson,  a  poor  and  distant  relation  of  the 
Belrl'ius  who  was  a  proficient  in  nice  cookery,  was  wilUng  anrl 


NEMESIS.  149 

Competent  to  supply  her  place,  and  that  she  would  find  an  able 
coadjutor  in  Sarah,  for  whose  tutelage  iu  this,  and  similar  branches 
of  the  fine  arts,  Miss  Barbara  took  all  the  credit.  Finding  that 
she  had  really  left  them  in  the  lurch,  Eleanor  decided  that  she 
could  not  do  better  than  to  follow  her  advice,  and  Miss  Nancy 
was  installed  housekeeper,  pro  tempore. 

The  festive  eve  had  arrived,  and  with  it,  a  number  of  guests 
from  a  distance,  who  were  to  dress  at  Ben  Lomond.  Eleauor 
had  issued  her  last  energetic  orders  below,  and,  in  the  hands  of  a 
maid  as  prompt  as  herself,  had  nearly  completed  her  evening  toi- 
let, while  Ursula,  jaded  already,  was  plodding  through  the  top- 
most row  of  Jessie's  curls.  The  elder  sister  was  in  an  unamiabl* 
mood.  This  was  not  an  occurrence  ?»  orthy  of  note  for  its  singu- 
larity ;  yet  that  must  have  been  an  obstinate  fit  of  ill-humor  that 
could  resist  the  pleasing  effect  of  the  reflection  in  her  mirror,  cor 
roborated  by  the  flattering  comments  of  her  assistant.  Misa 
Argyle's  robe  was  of  gold-colored  brocade,  with  raised  figures  of 
black  ;  her  stomacher  of  point  lace,  and  her  raven  hair  adorned — 
not  hidden,  by  a  turban  of  yellow  crape,  flashing  with  spangles. 

"Jest  like  an  angel,  wid  hur  crown  of  glory  on  hnr  head?* 
said  the  maid,  clasping  her  hands,  in  pretended  ecstasy.  "Dar 
won't  be  nothin'  else  like  dat,  here,  dis  night  !" 

Jessie's  blue  satin  gown  was  spread  on  the  bed,  where  she  could 
feast  her  eyes,  during  the  hair-dressing,  and  she  smiled,  in  sly  con- 
fidence, as  she  saw,  with  her  inner  vision,  her  own  far  different 
picture  of  angelic  beauty.  A  ray  of  gratified  vanity  trembled  over 
Eleanor's  dark  face  while  she  surveyed  her  image. 

"  What  do  yon  want,  Sarah  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  more  pacific 
tone  than  any  she  had  used  in  hours  previous. 

The  woman  had  just  come  in,  her  countenance  said,  upon 
business  of  importance.  Approaching  her  young  mistress,  she 
whispered,  guardedly,  '  She's  down  stairs.  Wants  to  eet 
you.'- 


150  NEMESIS 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  ?"  inquired  Eleanor,  drawing  back,  au 
ominous  frown  wrinkling  her  forehead. 

"  The  shoemaker  Bale's  wife,"  Sarah  whispered  again.  "  She 
looks  wild-like,  and  wants  to  see  one  of  the  young  ladies — you,  if 
she  can.  Says  she  won't  keep  you  but  a  minute.  I  thought 
maybe  you  didn't  want  her  up  here." 

"  I  do  not." 

The  woman  judged  correctly  that  her  mistress  did  not  care  to 
have  her  sister  acquainted  with  the  supposed  flirtation  of  her 
admirer  with  the  cottager  ;  her  conjecture  corresponding  with 
her  young  lady's,  viz.,  that  Bessy's  unseasonable  visit  had  some 
reference  to  Sarah's  discovery  of  the  forest  adventure  of  the 
afternoon. 

"  Show  her  into  the  study,  and  shut  the  door.  I  will  be  down 
directly,"  concluded  Eleanor,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

The  most  artful  praise  could  not  have  expelled  the  baleful 
demon  that  now  took  possession  of  her  soul,  and  made  threatening 
her  glances.  Her  compressed  lips  and  lowering  brow  hastened 
and  silenced  her  maid.  She  could  not  draw  a  free  breath,  while 
the  lightning  bolt  might  be  hanging  over  her  head.  As  she 
was  leaving  her  chamber,  Eleanor  spoke  sharply  to  her  sister  : 

"Jessie  !  you  will  not  be  dressed  before  midnight,  at  that  rate. 
Y"ou  and  Ursula  are  lazy  and  worthless  alike." 

Then  she  drew  to  the  door  violently,  and  went  downstairs,  and 
through  a  long  passage  to  the  study. 

This  was  Malcolm's  favorite  retreat ;  his  especial  sanctum,  when 
he  was  at  home.  There  were  his  desk  and  reading-chair,  and 
upon  the  shelves  that  filled  up  one  end  of  the  apartment,  was  his 
collection  of  books — comprising  the  library  of  the  mansion, 
leaving  out  Jessie's  novels.  The  room  was  seldom  used  in  his 
absence;  but  to-night,  Eleanor  foresaw  a  possibility  that  it  would 
be  required  as  a  dormitory,  if  many  of  the  guests  should  remais 
until  morning;  therefore  fire  and  candles  were  already  provided 


N  KMES  IS  .  151 

A-gainst  the  oaken  wainscot,  above  the  mantel,  was  suspended  a 
portrait,  and  Bessie  stood  upon  the  rug,  looking  up  at  it.  It 
represented  a  lovely  woman  ;  still  young,  but  with  a  matronly 
gravity  in  her  features;  a  soft  thoughtfuluess  in  her  eyes,  that 
aeeuied  to  bespeak  the  experience  of  a  wife  and  mother.  The 
resemblance  to  Malcolm,  and,  except  in  expression,  to  Eleanor, 
told  Bessy  who  had  been  the  original  of  the  picture.  If  she  were 
living,  and  here,  with  what  different  emotions  would  she  present 
her  petition  I  Yet  the  mild,  chastened  face  encouraged  her  to 
raeet  the  daughter,  with  less  shrinking  than  she  had  felt  a 
minute  ago. 

Eleanor  entered  with  a  slow,  stately  step,  drawing  on  the  long 
white  gloves  that  veiled  the  faultless  hand  and  part  of  the  arm. 

"  Did  you  ask  to  see  me  ?"  she  inquired,  not  looking  in  the 
direction  of  her  auditor. 

"  Yes,  madam." 

There  was  a  sobbing  gasp,  as  Bessy  summoned  her  sinking 
resolution,  expiring  under  the  influence  of  the  icy  accents. 

"  What  you  have  to  say — say  quickly  j  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

"  My  husband  is  very  sick,  Miss  Argyle  ;"  and  at  thought  of 
Mark — ill,  persecuted  and  patient^  Bessy  grew  bolder.  "  He 
has  not  been  able  to  do  a  day's  work  this  winter.  I  have  tried 
hard  to  make  up  for  this  ;  but  all  that  I  have  done  has  just  kept 
as  from  starving,  and  bought  his  medicines.  Our  quarter's  rent 
is  due.  We  have  furniture  which  would  cover  this,  but  Mr.  San- 
croft  sent  us  word,  this  morning,  that  we  were  bound  for  the  next 
three  months'  hire  besides.  I  cannot  believe  that  your  father 
will  allow  us  to  go  to  jail  because  we  are  not  able  to  pay  this 
The  law  may  bear  out  Mr.  Bancroft's  threat ;  but  it  is  not  right 
or  merciful  to  bring  ruin  upon  an  innocent  man,  in  this  way.  He 
/annot  leave  his  bed,  and  it  may  kill  him — that  long,  rough  rid« 
to  prison.  We  must  go  to-inorrow,  unless  you  will  help  us." 

"  I  am  not  my  father's  inan-of-basmess."     Was  it  a  woman  o/ 


152  NEMESIS 

a  beautiful  fiend  that  spoke  ?  "  I  never  iaterfere  in  sach  mat 
ters.  Mr.  Sancroft  understands  what  he  is  about,  I  presume, 
5rou  must  go  to  .him  with  your  complaints." 

"  You  must  know  him,  Miss  Argyle  ;  must  know  that  he  « 
A  hard,  cold-hearted  man,  who  shows  no  pity  to  anything.  He 
has  taken  a  great  dislike  to  us." 

"  Indeed  1"  sarcastically  "  That  is  remarkable.  I  thought 
that  you  inspired  gentlemen  with  another  feeling.  Perhaps  it  is 
jeabusy  that  shuts  his  heart  against  you." 

"Jealousy  1"  echoed  Bessy,  innocently.  "Why  should  he  Df 
jealous  of  me  ?" 

"  I  cannot  undertake  to  say,  unless  because  Mr.  Moreau  has  sup- 
planted him  in  your  favor.  He  is  your  latest  conquest,  I  believe." 

Her  look  was  more  offensive  than  her  language  The  fire 
leaped  to  the  wife's  eyes. 

"It  is  a  slander  1  a  vile  falsehood  I  a  wicked  story,  made  uj. 
by  your  servant,  and  which  you  ought  to  have  been  ashamed  to 
believe!"  she  cried,  passionately.  "  My  character  is  as  dear  to 
me  as  yours  is  to  you,  Miss  Argyle  !  Ask  your  Mr.  Moreau 
how  he  happened  to  meet  me,  and  where.  If  he  speaks  the  truth, 
ne  will  tell  you  what  I  do  now — that  he  overtook  me  on  my  waj 
home,  and  would  walk  by  my  side  ;  that  the  worst  of  his  couduei 
was  to  pay  me  nonsensical  compliments,  which  meant  nothing,  and 
that  I  only  answered  him  when  he  obliged  me  to  do  so.  Oh, 
Miss  Argyle  1  your  family  have  injured  us  enough  already.  If 
you  have  the  feeling  of  a  woman,  do  not  try  to  put  more  shame 
upon  those  who  never  did  you  a  single  wrong  I" 

Eleanor  was  obliged  to  believe  this  explanation  of  the  en- 
counter  that  had  roused  her  jealous  rage  ;  but  the  burden  of  the 
blame,  if  blame  there  was  in  the  affair,  was,  by  this  version, 
thrown  wholly  upon  her  admirer,  and  the  "creature's"  imperti- 
nence was  too  heinous  an  ofi'euce  to  be  atoned  for  by  her  manifcpi 
innocence  of  otter  Crimes. 


NEMESIS.  153 

"  What  do  you  suppose  I  care  whether  the  -  story  be  true  01 
oot  ?"  she  said,  in  angry  scorn.  "  Your  love-affairs  and  all  your 
other  concerns  are  of  no  consequence  to  me,  except  that  they  are 
detaining  me  from  more  agreeable  company  than  I  can  hope  to 
find  in  you.  I  repeat,  I  never  interfere  in  my  father's  business. 
Nor  does  Mr.  Bancroft  act  without  orders.  His  conduct,  in  this 
instance,  appears  to  me  to  have  been  most  commendable.  His 
only  fault  in  the  whole  matter  was  letting  you  have  the  house  at 
first.  It  has  produced  nothing  but  trouble  to  us,  and  I  rejoice 
that  we  are  likely  to  be  well  rid  of  you.  With  these  sentiments. 
it  is  very  unlikely  that  I  would  raise  a  finger  to  keep  you  there.' 

She  departed  as  she  had  come — sweeping  on.  with  negligent, 
yet  haughty  grace,  and  fitting  the  other  glove  on  her  superbly 
moulded  arm.  As  Bessy  passed  the  lighted  porch,  a  group  of 
revellers  alighted  from  then*  carriages,  and  just  within  the  entrance 
hall,  appeared  the  radiant  face  and  figure  of  the  youthful  hostess, 
eager  to  welcome  each  with  a  profusion  of  honeyed  phrases  aad 
smiles. 


J  U  NEME8II 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  cart,  containing  the  law-officer  and  his  prisoner,  reached 
the  Court  House  at  sunset.  The  vehicle  had  not  been  punctual, 
as  was  promised,  and  the  deep  mire  of  the  road  obliged  the 
miserable  animal,  attached  to  the  load,  to  walk  every  step  of  the 
way.  The  Court  House  village  was  a  collection  of  dingy  buildings-, 
the  principal  being  the  store,  the  tavern,  the  court  house,  and  in 
portentous  proximity  to  this,  the  jail.  Mark  was  not  able  to  lift 
his  head  to  look  at  it,  as  the  cart  stopped  ;  but  Bessy  saw  a 
frame-building,  by  no  means  spacious,  and  devoid  of  any  sign  of 
its  character,  except  the  bars  across  the  windows.  The  aspect 
of  the  place  was  less  forbidding  than  she  had  pictured  it  ;  yet 
her  heart  relinquished  its  last  hold  on  hope,  as  she  arose  to  assist 
in  her  husband's  removal.  Their  driver,  although  an  illiterate 
constable,  and  ^accustomed  to  such  tasks,  was  humane  in  MB 
bearing  and  tone,  and  had  done  his  best  to  mitigate  the  hard 
ships  of  the  journey  to  the  sick  man.  Mark  noticed  this,  an<"! 
was  thankful  for  it,  while  Bessy's  apathetic  misery  blinded  her  to 
everything  except  the  fact  that  he  was  Mr.  Bancroft's  emissary 
Without  looking  toward  him,  or  the  knot  of  curious  bystanders, 
that  gathered  about  the  jail-door,  she  folded  the  blankets  ove. 
Mark,  and  asked,  in  a  whisper,  how  they  should  lift  him  out. 

"  If  ever  I  was  so  beat  out,  in  my  life  1" 

The  exclamation  proceeded  from  a  man,  who  bustled  across 
the  road,  from  the  tavern,  with  a  ponderous  bunch  of  keys  in  hi* 
hand. 


»  T  M  E  8  I  8  .  155 

"  Mrs.  Hale  1  dud  la  that  your  husband  in  there,  or  his  shad 
dor  ?  Good  Fathers  I" 

"It  is  what  is  left  of  me,  M?.  Paxton,"  replied  MarK,  extend 
ing  his  hand. 

The  worthy  wagoner  seized  it  in  a  vice-like  grasp. 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  am  glad  to  see  you  !"  he  said — a  husky 
edge  to  the  voice,  usually  so  round  and  unctuou?.  "  As  my  ole 
woman  says,  '  Wonders  will  never  cease  !'  Well !  well  !  well  I 
Easy,  Mr.  Jones  I"  to  the  constable.  "  Let  me  get  a  firm  hold 
on  the  other  side  of  him.  And  the  little  gal,  too  !  Bless  my 
BOU!  !  Sam,  my  boy  ;  run  and  tell  your  mammy  to  come  here — 
quick  as  she  can  !  Say  there's  somebody  sick,  and  she'll  hurry." 

Accordingly,  they  were  hardly  in  the  room  destined  for  their 
reception,  when  there  hurried  in  a  short,  plump  woman  ;  ruddy 
as  her  husband,  and  far  better-looking.  He  took  her  into  a 
corner,  and  whispered  the  sad  story,  or  so  much  as  he  had 
gathered  from  the  officer.  There  were  drops  on  her  face,  like 
dew  on  a  full-blown  rose,  when  she  shook  hands  with  Bessy. 

"I've  heard  my  man  tell  of  you,"  she  said.  "  He  took  a 
mighty  fancy  to  you,  when  you  come  on  with  him,  and  he's 
stopped  to  see  you,  three  or  four  times — ain't  he  ?" 

Bessy  answered  that  he  had  ;  but  not  lately. 

"  No  ;  because  he's  left  the  road  and  gone  to  tavern-keepin'. 
A  nd  this  is  the  baby  he  talks  about  ?  Why  !  she's  a  smart 
girl  !" 

Kitty,  whose  wonderment  and  grief  at  the  events  of  the  day 
had  rendered  her  shy  of  strangers,  could  not  shrink  from  the  kind 
voice  and  hand. 

"  I  will  send  my  little  girls  over  to  play  with  you,  honey.    Yoq 
ehau't  be  lonesome.     Mrs.  Hale,  let  me  help  you  1     Tom,  deary, 
'won't  you  have  a  fire  built  ?     There's  no  place  so  poor  tliat  i 
fire  won't  make  it  lively,  'cordin'  to  my  notion." 

"  Is  it  not  agaiust  your  regulations  ?"  inquired  Mark 


156  NEMESIS. 

She  laughed — a  bubbling,  jolly  sound,  that  suited  her  well. 

"  I  don't  care  overmuch  about  reg'lations  My  business  is  to 
see  that  all's  right  in-doors,  and  nobody  out,  and  if  they  want  to 
pin  nie  down  to  reg'lations,  they  may  find  somebody  else  to  keep 
the  keys.  It's  agiust  my  feelin's  to  have  you  perish  in  this  chilly 
hole,  and  I  reckon,  nobody  will  find  fault." 

There  were  sound  skepers  in  the  jail  that  night ;  the  slumbers 
that  succeed  intense  and  continuous  excitement  of  mind  or  body. 
And,  although  they  could  not  analyze  the  feeling,  both  Mark 
and  Bessy  were  calmer,  less  depressed  by  the  waking  thoughts 
of  next  morning,  than  they  had  been  in  months  past.  The  crisis 
was  over,  and  calamitous  as  was  the  culmination  of  their  winter's 
trials,  it  was  a  positive  relief  to  cease  watching  for  succor  that 
never  came  ;  to  say  to  one  another,  that  the  storm  had  broken 
in  all  its  fury,  and  left  them  alive  and  together.  Bessy  was  not 
hopeful.  She  had  been  bowed  too  low  for  that ;  jet  neither  was 
she  fiercely  despairing,  as  upon  the  preceding  day.  The  morning 
was  spent  in  setting  the  room  in  order,  and  disposing  the  few 
effects  they  had  dared  to  bring  with  them,  so  as  to  confer  some- 
thing, like  a  snug  air  upon  the  large  desolate-looking  apartment. 

The  Paxtons,  from-  the  oldest  to  the  youngest,  seemed  to  have 
adopted  them  into  their  family.  The  burly  form  of  the  ex- 
teamster  rolled  in  and  out,  every  hour  or  so,  "  to  see  that  the  fire 
was  goin';"  or,  "  if  Mrs.  Hale  wanted  anything  ;"  or,  "how 
Mr.  Hale  was  feelin';"  and  he  had  each  time,  some  consolatoiy 
and  philosophic  adage  of  his  "  ole  woman,"  that  assuredly  relieved 
his  spirit,  whether  it  had  any  healing  for  theirs  or  not.  It  was  u 
singular  fact,  that  he  was  the  solitary  and  favored  recipient  of 
these  nut-shells  of  wisdom  from  his  buxom  help-meet.  No  othel 
mortal  ever  heard  her  utter  one  of  the  thousand  and  one  proverbs, 
for  which  he  continually  credited  her  ;  yet,  as  his  veracity  was 
above  question,  nobody  doubted  his  implicit  belief  in  theif 
reputed  authorship.  Mrs,  Paxtoii  was  lost*  uoisy  ;  but  aa 


N  K  M  E  5  I  8  .  )  .">* 

sincere  in  her  sympathy  and  desire  to  alleviate,  by  every  menu.*  in 
JUT  power,  the  distressing  situation  of  her  interesting  prisoners. 
The  children,  healthy,  good-humored  animals,  went  wild  with 
delight  about  Kitty,  and  succeeded,  by  the  afternoon,  in  coaxing 
her  ovei  to  their  house,  liessy  forwarded  their  suit,  for  she 
I  tlio  effect  of  quiet  confinement  upon  the  susceptible  child; 
iJ.e  premiituro  peni-heness  that  began  t-  mark  her  manner  and 
ppeerh. 

M;ir!v  dro .  j-K',1  ashfp  when  the  boisterous  crowd  had  borne  off 
their  prize,  and  iicssy  sc-wid  quietly  beside  his  bed,  until  the  day, 
dying  iuto  a  drizzling  evening,  dei.ied  her  light  ior  her  work. 
Mark  slept  still,  and  she  crossed  the  hands,  so  seldom  idle  of  late, 
and  mused  over  the  red-hot  embers. 

She  realize  1  what  she  had  never  thought  of  before — how  old 
she  had  grown  since  the  artive,  merry  summer.  All  the  y^ara 
she  had  numbered,  up  to  that  fatal  November  of  her  husband's 
sickness,  had  not  marked  and  changed  her  as  had  the  months 
that  had  dragged  by  since.  With  the  bending  of  the  strong 
staff,  she  knew  how  entire  had  been  her  dependence  upon  it.  She 
remembered  him,  as  ho  was  in  their  courtship  ;  the  life  and  pride 
of  the  circle  that  was  then  her  world — a  prodigy  of  learning  to 
the  simple  villagers;  recalled  the  predictions  that  were  rife  amonj» 
them,  of  his  future  eminence  in  the  young  republic  of~8c.'f-ir.ado 
men,  where  he  was  to  be  a  second  Sherman,  to  reflect  glory  upon 
his  birth-place;  dwelt  longer  and  more  fondly  upon  the  traits 
and  acts  that  had  made  every  day  of  their  wedded  l:fe  to  be  an 
era,  signalizing  the  discovery  of  newer  and  sweeter  happiness. 
Not  a  shaft  of  misfortune  had  reached  her  bosom,  until  he,  her 
thield,  was  dashed  to  the  earth.  Yet  she  loved  him  better  thia 
-tour — helpless  and  ghastly  as  he  was — a  very  infant,  to  be  fed 
aod  cared  for  by  the  labor  of  her  hands — better,  a  hundred-fold 
more  dearly,  than  when  she  pledged  him  her  maiden  troth ;  when 
she  joined  her  handti  with  his,  in  the  marriage-tie;  or,  when  sh« 


158  NEMESIS. 

turned  her  back  upon  the  homestead  and  t/he  graves  of  he» 
parents,  and  prepared  to  follow  him  into  the  unknown  country, 
that  lay  outside  the  boundary  of  her  own  Blue  Hills.  She  knew 
herself  to  be  unworthy  of  his  lore  and  companionship  ;  for  in  the 
furnace  of  their  affections,  he  was  becoming  like  the  refined  gold, 
she  like  the  dross,  that  changes  fast  in  the  heat,  to  ashes,  yet 
more  earthy.  But  for  the  fetters  of  that  pure  love  for  him  ;  but 
for  bis  controlling  influence  over  her  impassioned  nature,  she  was 
ready  to  rush  into  the  wildest  extremes  of  folly  and  madness 
The  wife's  devotion  and  the  mother's  instinct  were  all  that  p^e- 
eerved  the  mind's  balance.  If  she  put  her  treasures  out  of  sight 
for  one  instant,  she  felt  like  a  tigress,  thirsting  for  prey. 

Gentle  and  fond  as  were  most  of  her  meditations,  there  was  an 
occasional  sparkle  hi  the  eye,  like  the  glitter  of  a  sword  in  the 
sunshine  ;  the  red  lips  were  set,  and  the  teeth  gnashed  in  impo- 
tent menace. 

The  ram  dripped  drearily  from  the  roof,  and  the  fire 
droned  its  sleepy  song.  A  lonely  cricket  chirped  under  the 
hearth,  and  a  death-watch  ticked  in  the  wall.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  combined  effect  of  these  sounds  and  the  hour  and  weather,  or 
it  may  have  been  a  lurking  superstition  that  rendered  Bessy 
uneasy  at  this  last  noise.  Try,  as  she  might,  not  to  listen,  the 
monotonous  "  tick  1  tick  1"  vibrated  upon  her  ear  more  and  morn 
distinctly,  until  the  pained  nerves  conveyed  no  other  sensation 
than  the  beating  of  the  sharp  strokes  upon  the  drum.  At  trie 
risk  of  awaking  the  sleeper,  she  struck  smartly  upon  the  wall, 
where  the  mysterious  insect  appeared  to  be  located  ;  but  the 
ticking  went  on  as  steadily."  She  stirred  the  'fire  and  walked 
about  the  room.  Still  "  tick  !  tick  !  tick  !"  as  if  there  were 
twenty  watches  in  the  echoing  chamber,  rivalling,  each,  the  others, 
iu  speed  and  loadness. 

If  Mark  had  not,  of  his  own  accord,  moved  and  opened  his 
eyes,  she  would  have  awakened  him,  that  a  human  voice  might 


NEMESIS.  159 

deliver  her  from  the  annoyance,  which  had  now  grown  to  be 
insupportable.  He  murmured,  as  he  awoke — something  inartieu 
latt — and  she  leaned  over  him  to  catch  it. 

"  What  do  you  want,  dear  Mark  ?" 

"The  elms  are  in  leaf  early  this  year,"  he  said,  dreamily 
"  Have  you  noticed  them,  Bessy  ?" 

"  Mark  !  Darling  V  she  called,  shaking  his  shoulder  "  Yon 
are  not  awake.  What  are  you  dreaming  about  ?" 

"The  bees  are  humming  over  the  buttercups  in  the  garden, 
and  the  strawberry -bed  is  in  bloom.  I  have  been  clearing  away 
the  dead  grass,  and  tying  up  the  rose-bushes  on  your  mother's 
grave." 

"  Dear  Mark  !"  repeated  the  wife,  tearfully.  "  Don't  you  know 
me — your  own  Bessy  ?" 

He  smiled  up  in  her  face. 

"  What  a  question  1  I  cannot  remember  the  time  when  I  did 
not  know  and  love  Bessy  Bryan — '  Bonnie  Bessie,'  as  the  old 
Scotch  piper  used  to  call  her.  Weren't  we  married  two  yeard 
ago,  last  September  ?  You'll  find  it  in  the  Family  Bible — '  Mark 
Hale  and  Margaret  Elizabeth  Bryan.'  " 

His  hands  were  burning,  and  his  sunken  cheeks  red  with  fever 
These  tokens  of  an  unfavorable  change,  Bessy  could  see  by  the 
irelight,  and  to  her  great  joy,  she  now  heard  Mrs.  Paxton's  voico 
catside. 

"  Open  the  door  for  me,  Tom.     My  hands  are  brimful." 

She  deposited  her  basket  of  eatables  upon  the  table,  and  pro« 
ceeded  to  light  a  candle. 

"  I  reckon  you  thought  we  meant  to  starve  you  to-night,  Mrs. 
•  Hale  ;  but  there  happened  two  or  three  travellers  in,  jest  at  sup 
yer-time  " 

She  stopped,  at  seeing  Bessy  beckon  her  to  the  bed  Mark 
had  his  eyes  shut,  and  his  wife  pointed  to  the  flush  on  his  face  j 
then  touched  her  own  forehead  The  landlady's  couutenauct 


160  NEMESIS 

expressed  her  concern  and  surprise,  A  doctress  in  her  way,  she  feii 
his  pulse,  and  looked  graver  still  at  its  uncountable  beats.  At 
the  touch  of  the  cool  fingers,  he  spoke  again. 

"  I  have  been  giving  Baby  Kitty  her  walking-lesson.  How 
Rightly  the  little  thing  held  my  hand  !  She  will  trot  all  over  the 
yard,  soon." 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Kitty  slept  away  from  her  mother, 
that  night.  Mrs.  Paxton  shared  the  wife's  vigil,  for  Mark  tossed 
and  raved  until  the  dawu.  Then  cauie  a  physician,  for  whom 
Mr.  Paxton  had  sent,  unknown  to  Bessy.  He  was  not  a  Dr. 
Chase,  and  his  friendliness  reassured  Bessy,  while  he  inquired  into 
the  symptoms  and  examined  the  state  of  the  patient.  She  would 
have  read  his  face,  when  this  was  over  ;  but  it  was  impenetrable. 

He  merely  said,  "  Treat  him  thus,  and  thus,"  and  "  I  will 
call  again  this  evening  ;"  which  he  did,  and  slept  that  night  at  thf 
tavern. 

Mark  was  rational  by  the  following  morning  ;  "  better  every 
way,"  as  Bessy  told  the  doctor,  at  his  early  call,  and  he  did  not 
gainsay  it.  In  the  course  of  the  forenoon,  as  Bessy  was  reclining 
upon  her  husband's  bed,  one  of  Mr.  Paxton's  sons  entered  with  a 
letter,  which  had  been  handed  him  at  the  Post-office  for  Mrs 
Hale. 

Mark's  languid  eye  kindled,  and  not  to  keep  him  in  suspense, 
she  read  it  aloud  : 

PlNBVILLB,  COCNTT,  N.  CARRTLINA,  Jan.  \Qth,  1799. 

MY  DEAR  SISTER  :  I  guess  you  and  Mark  has  offten  wundered  the  reason 
why  no  Letters  came  from  Me  to  tell  whether  I  was,  alive  or  Ded  or  doing 
wel  or  (What  seams  to  you  as  likely,  maybee)  doing  nothing  at  All,  the 
Truth  is,  I  have  not  maid  Money  peddling  so  rapid  as  I  hopped  and  thout 
I  shoud,  when  Me  and  your  Husband  travilled  south  together.  And  so, 
considring  that  it  is  Harder  to  Starve  Two  than  one  (which  is  a  Strange 
thing  to  say  at  furst  site,)  and  hapcning  to  get'acquainted  with  a  Likely 
Widder  woman,  with  considerable  property,  a.  Store  aud  a  Tavern,  and  * 


M  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  161 

•mart  ic.inuging  woman  whose  house,  1  stopped  at  pretty  considerable 
Often,  mostly  over  Sundays,  for  I  never  can  feel  rite  traveling  on  that 
Holy  day,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  sell  out  my  Stock  and  settle  down  de- 
cent and  Respectable,  and  take  a  Wife,  which  providence  permimr.g,  I  shal 
do  To-morrow.  Me  and  Mr?.  Smith  (which  is  her  name  at  Present)  have 
talked  About  you  and  Mark  a  many  times,  and  I  told  Her  how  you 

-•or  I  had  in  the  world,  and  how  •   sen.-iijle   and  working 

"d   you   both   was  to  me,  when  I  was  a  lazy 

with  r.o  money  and  no  Home,  and  Mark  lent  me  money  to  buy  my  l-'ur.-t 
lode  of  goods  and  lots  01'  advice  besides,  and  I  .would  never  have  pot  or, 
At  all.  without  him,  and  you  maid  and  mended  my  Clo  'lid  My 

washing  and  so  on.  and  she  said  right  out,  tl ,.'  I  must  send  her  Best  love, 
and  invite  you  to  come  to  our  Ho;.  Little  kitty  and  Mark  and 

any  other  Famly  you  has,  and  stay  Ion:.-  us  \ou  choose,  and  if  there? 
anything  we  can  do  for  you,  you  must  let  us  know  Right  away,  and  w« 
will  be  Glad  and  happy  to  sorve  you.  And  ehe  is  a  Plainspoken  woman 
and  what  she  eavs  she  means  you  may  dej;  '  .1  On  it,  and  hoping  this  will 
fined  you  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  same  Blessing,  I  am  very  Well,  and 
remane  always  your  affectionate  brother, 

JACOB  BKYAN. 

"What  is  the  date?"  inquired  Mark. 

"January  10th,"  answered  Bessy.  "It  has  taken  a  long  while 
to  come." 

"  The  place,  I  mean." 

"  1'ineville, County,  North  Caiolma,"  read  Bt 

"  It  is  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  State,  not  far  from  the  sea- 
board," said  he,  thoughtfully.  You  would  not  have  much  trouble 
Mng  there,  if  you  had  the  money.  The  Lord  will  provide  a 
way  and  the  means.'' 

Bessy  ivgarded  him  with  unaffected  wonder. 

"  It  will  be  some  weeks'  before  you  are  strong  enough-  to  take 
such  a  journey,  even  if  we  are  rele;.  this  place,"  si: 

Do  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  sett)  .. .ent  for  you  T' 

He  did  not  reply  immediately.  ired  to  be  seeking 

words,  or  summoning  strength  to  convoy  what  he  would  impart. 


102  NEMESIS. 

"  Has  it  not  occurred  to  you,  Bessy,  that  I  may  not  get  vrel! 
of  this  sickness  ?" 

"  I  have  never  trusted  myself  to  suppose  such  a  thing,"  she 
returned,  growing  very  pale. 

"  Then,  dear  wife,  it  is  time  for  me  to  speak.  You  must  go  to 
your  brother  after  I  leave  you.  You  have  no  other  near  blood- 
relation  living,  and  his  house  will  be  the  best  shelter  for  you  and 
your  child.  You  see  how  kindly  he  invites  ^ou,  and  how  grateful 
he  is  for  what  we  have  done  for  him.  Are  you  listening,  Bessy  ? 
I  cannot  speak  louder." 

"  I  hear  you,"  issued,  in  a  whisper,  from  the  white  lips* 

"  While  I  have  my  senses  I  will  tell  you  how  to  act,  for  my 
time  is  too  short  to  waste.  This  bed  and  my  clothing  will  bring 
a  trifle,  and  should  the  rest  of  the  sum  you  will  need  come  from 
no  other  quarter,  write  to  Jacob  how  you  are  situated,  and  stay 
here  with  Mrs.  Paxtou  until  he  sends  you  money,  or  you  can  earn 
it  by  your  needle.  Friends  will  be  raised  up  to  you  in  youi 
hour  of  need.  I  have  His  promise  for  that.  The  seed  of  tlu 
righteous  shall  never  beg  bread.  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners, 
pet  accepted  as  righteous  in  the  Father's  sight,  for  the  Son's 
sake." 

He  paused.  Bessy  could  not  move  or  speak.  Like  a  marble 
statue  of  desolation,  she  gazed  at  her  idolized  husband,  hei 
awakened  fears  gathering  terrible  certainty  from  the  signs  of  fail 
jig  strength  and  breath,  she  perceived  in  him. 

"  You  will  miss  me,  darling.  We  have  been  very  happi 
together."  A  pang  unsettled  the  tranquil  features.  "  But  reniem 
ber  that  I  have  entered  into  rest ;  that  all  pain  and  sorrow  anc 
weariness  are  at  an  end  ;  for  '  so  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep 
Will  you  meet  me  there,  dear  wife,  and  bring  our  precious  littk 
one  with  you  ?  I  do  not  ask  your  promise  now.  You  are  read} 
to  say  and  do  anything  that  would  please  me.  But  think  of  it  , 
never  forget  that  this  is  my  last  earthly  hope,  my  latest  prayer  fo< 


V  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  163 

those  I  leave  behind  me.     Let  my  child — our  child — be  taught  tc 
know  her  father's  God. 

"  I  am  wonderfully  supported,"  he  said  by  and  by.  "  I  should 
hdve  said,  before  the  trial  came,  that  the  thought  of  your  destitu- 
tion and  the  probable  hardships  in  store  for  yon  and  dear  Kitty 
would  press,  like  a  mountain,  upon  my  spirit  ;  yet,  I  have  uo 
fears  for  your  temporal  welfare  ;  not  one  !  This  is  dying  grave." 

They  had  DO  private  interview  after  that.  The  doctor  came 
again  later  in  the  day,  and  went  through  a  form  of  inquiry  and 
prescription.  As  he  retired  he  motioned  to  Mrs.  Paxton  to  fol- 
low. 

"  Do  you  know  that  he  is  dying  ?"  he  said  to  her,  when  they 
were  alone,  outside  of  the  door. 

"  I  mistrusted  so,"  replied  the  kind  creature,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  He  will  hardly  last  through  the  night.  They  are  very  poor, 
I  think  you  said  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  or  they  wouldn't  have  been  here.  You  see,  for 
yourself,  what  uncommon  sort  of  people  they  are.  Oh,  doctor  I 
Law  is  a  dreadful,  wicked  thing  !  I  told  'em  I'd  take  charge  of 
the  jail  for  twelve  months  ;  but  after  the  sight  I've  seen,  and 
what  Tom  and  I  has  underwent,  this  one  week,  we'd  neither  of  us 
keep  the  keys  another  year  ;  not  if  you  was  to  pack  the  old  house 
with  gold  and  silver  for  us.  To  see  a  blessed  Christian  like  that 
brought  here  a-dyiu',  as  you  may  say,  and  for  what  ?  Jest  because 
the  Almighty  tied  his  hands  so  as  he  couldn't  make  money  for  a 
man  as  is  rollin'  hi  wealth  a'ready  I  Ah  !  depend  on  it,  there's 
a  day  of  reckonin'  comiu'  for  such  as  sent  them  poor  cre'tura 
*ere  I" 

The  doctor  did  not  rebuke  her  vehemence.  Perhaps  he  appre- 
ciated the  justice  of  her  reprobation. 

"  They  have  no  friends  in  this  State,  I  think  Mr.  Paxton  told 
me." 
'  "  No  kith  or  kin,  sir.     The  Lord  >uly  knows  what  will  becomi 


164  NEMESIS. 

of  the  mother  and  her  rhild  !  If  they  will  stay  with  us  they  shall 
never  want  a  seat  in  the  chimney  corner,  and  enough  to  eat,  whilf 
Tom  and  I  live." 

"  I  believe  you,  madam,  and  the  offer  is  what  all  who  know 
you  would  expect.  Still,  would  it  not  be  more  kind  to  send  them 
back  to  their  home  and  relations  ?  I  am  sure  that,  with  a  very 
slight  effort,  I  can  raise  among  my  acquaintances  a  subscription, 
that  will  cover  the  travelling  expenses  of  the  two  to  Massachu- 
setts. Please  ascertain  for  me,  as  soon  as  it  is  proper  to  inquire, 
after  all  is  over,  what  are  Mrs.  Hale's  wishes  in  this  respect,  and 
rely  upon  me  for  the  means  of  carrying  them  out." 

Turning  a  deaf  ear  to  her  reiterated  thanks  and  blessings,  this 
nobleman  of  Nature's  creation  mounted  his  horse,  and  set  out 
upon  his  benevolent  errand. 

More  travellers  halted  at  the  inn,  at  sundown  ;  but  the  land- 
lord alone  received  them.  "  Mother  Paxton  "  was  scrupulous  io 
her  personal  attention  to  the  table  and  chambers  of  her  cus- 
tomers ;  but  this  evening,  "  Tom  "  and  her  eldest  son  were  her 
representatives.  She  did  not  stir  from  the  chamber  of  death. 
The  trutli  was  acknowledged  by  all  who  saw  the  sufferer,  and 
recognized  by  none,  with  more  composure;  than  by  him,  whom  it 
most  nearly  concerned.  He  retained  his  consciousness  and  tht 
ability  to  speak.  The  ripples  of  the  cold  river  were  breaking 
orer  his  feet,  yet  his  faith  quailed  not  ;  his  peaceful  eye  already 
saw  the  brightness  of  the  farther  shore.  Several  charitable 
neighbors  of  the  Paxtons  had  come  in,  to  tender  theh  services, 
and  while  Bessy  remained  seemingly  unaware  of  their  presence  ; 
Mark  thanked  each  one  with  a  grateful  glance  or  word. 

About  eight  o'clock,  Mr.  Paxton  entered  as  softly  as  ho 
could. 

"  How  is  he,  now  ?"  he  whispered  to  his  wife. 
Mark  heard  him,  and  answered.     "  Thank  you  ;  I   do   net 
Buffer.     I  am  waiting  as  patiently  as  I  :*an." 


H  E  M  E  5  I  8  .  16£ 

"  That's  what  I  told  him  !"  said  the  landlord,  chokingly.  "  I 
said  you  was  all  ready  and  williu'  to  go." 

"  Told  who  ?"  Mrs.  Paxton  anticipated  the  inquiry  Mark 
would  have  made. 

"  A  minister,  who  is  stoppin'  at  the  tavern  to-night.  He  was 
mightily  int'restcd  in  what  I  told  him  about  you,  Mr.  Hale,  and 
he  sent  me  to  know,  would  you  like  to  have  him  come  in  and 
pray  with  you." 

"  Indeed,  I  would  be  most  happy  1"  was  the  earnest  response. 

There  was  stillness  in  the  room,  until  Mr.  Paxton  returned 
with  the  clergyman.  Mark  was  evidently  husbanding  his  remain- 
ing strength  for  the  interview.  The  silence  of  the  rest  wa.s  that 
of  awe  and  expectation.  Mark's  gaze  was  upon  the  door,  and 
tois  face  brightened,  as  his  visitor  advanced.  Bessy,  too,  started 
at  the  unlooked-for  sight  of  Mr.  Laidley's  remembered  countenance. 

His  mute  pressure  of  her  hand  revealed  his  respect  for,  and 
sympathy  with  her  woe  ;  yet  his  voice,  as  he  accosted  Mark,  was 
almost  cheerful. 

"  Ought  I  to  be  grieved  at  finding  you  so  ill,  Mr.  Hale  ?" 

The  bystanders  looked  curiously  at  him.  The  question  was,  to 
to  them,  inexplicable.  The  dying  man's  reply  was  prompt. 

"  No,  sir  !  Do  you  recollect  telling  me  that  dark  days  often 
seemed  bright,  when  seen  from  the  shore  of  Eternity  ?  I  feel 
now,  that  for  my  own  sake,  I  would  not  have  had  one  cloud  the 
less." 

His  accents  were  clear,  but  faint,  and  his  breathing  short.  In 
a  toue  yet  more  low,  although  audible,  he  added,  as  in  soliloquy ; 
"  There  shall  be  no  night  there  1" 

"  And  there  shall  be  no  more  death  ;  neither  sorrow,  nor 
crying — neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain,"  repeated  the 
minister's  sweet,  fervent  tones  :  "  Blessed  are  they  which  are 
called  into  the  '  marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb  !'  That  this  mnj 
6e  tie  portion  of  all  here  present — let  us  pray  1" 


166  NEMESIS 

There  was  a  change  in  the  face  of  the  dying,  wrhen  the  others 
arose  from  their  knees — not  in  expression,  for  the  light  that 
irradiated  it  was  never  more  to  flicker  or  fade  ;  but  in  hue  and 
features  -The  greyish  pallor  could  not  be  misunderstood.  In- 
formed of  this  by  the  countenances  of  those  about  him,  or  warned 
oy  the  unerring  instinct  of  Nature,  his  eye  went  meaningly 
around  the  circle — a  kindly  farewell  in  it,  to  each  one  ;  then, 
raising  one  arm,  he  drew  Bessy's  head  upon  his  pillow,  her  cheek 
resting  against  his.  There  were  whispers  of  blessing  and  endear- 
ment, unheard  by  other  ears  than  hers  ;  a  message  for  the  sleep- 
ing child,  who  had,  that  evening,  received  the  last  "  good-night " 
kiss  she  could  ever  know  from  a  father  ;  and  at  his  request,  the 
wife  pressed  her  lips  to  his — one  long,  clinging  caress — and  again 
laid  her  cheek  to  one  cold  with  the  damps  of  death.  He  slum- 
bered thus  for  a  moment,  and  all  supposed  that  consciousness 
would  never  return — when  he  awoke  and  addressed  Mr.  Laidley: 

"  Please,  sing  the  hymn  I  heard  at  church  :  '  There  is  a  foun- 
tain.' " 

The  minister  did  not  hesitate  a  second.  Affected  and  surprise  o 
though  he  was  at  the  request,  he  sang  softly,  and  with  wondrous 
melody,  the  words  that  have  upborne  many  a  soul  in  its  passage 
through  the  swelling  flood. 

The  thread  of  life  was  parting  very  gradually.  There  was  still 
\  slender  strand  left,  when  the  music  ceased.  The  smile  of  in- 
effable peace  yet  shone  through  the  lineaments  of  the  living,  and 
even  while  Mrs.  Paxton  held  her  hand  to  the  lips  to  discover 
whether  the  breath  had  not  departed,  the  pulse  leaped  suddenly; 
the  filmy  eyes  shot  forth  a  ray,  and  an  exclamation,  like  a  cry  of 
triumph  burst  from  him — "  DEAR,  DYING  LAMB  1" 

Ris  hand  fell  away  from  his  wife's  neck.  The  "  stammering 
tongue "  was  silent  .:n  death ;  the  ransomed  spirit  sang  th« 
"  nobler,  sweeter  song  "  in  heaven. 


•  E  M  K  8  I  ft  1GT 


CHAPTER    XIII 

TWELVE  years  had  wrought  no  material  alteration  in  the  phy- 
sical aspect  of  the  "  Deep  Run  neighborhood,"  an  area  of 
country,  about  six  miles  in  extent,  near  the  centre  of  which  was 
situated  Ben  Lomond.  There  was  more  cleared  and  more  tilled 
land,  for  trees  were  burned  faster  than  they  grew,  and  when 
one  field  was  drained  of  fertility,  virgin  soil  must  supply  its  place. 
Guano  and  super-phosphate  were  unknown,  and  would  have  been 
an  unprofitable  speculation  to  their  vender,  had  they  been  offered 
to  the  contented  planter,  who  complained  of  being  crowded,  if, 
from  his  house-door,  he  could  in  any  direction,  espy  the  smoke  of 
a  neighbor's  chimney.  If  his  negroes  were  numerous,  so  were  his 
acres  ;  his  hogs  fattened  on  the  mast  under  the  oaks  thai 
called  for  no  cultivation  ;  corn  grew  almost  spontaneously,  and 
the  meat  and  bread  of  his  thriftless  dependents  was  sure.  It  wa« 
a  wealthy  community,  made  up  mainly  of  hospitable  free-livers, 
on  social  terms  with  one  another,  and  every  man  upholding  the 
rest  in  the  comfortable  conviction,  that  nowhere  else  in  the  com- 
monwealth were  more  intelligence,  fortune  and  blood  collected  in 
a  like  limited  space. 

The  descendants — in  some  instances,  the  degenerate  scions  of 
»  ncble  old  stock — have  so  beridden  this  hobby  of  family  pride, 
that  it  passes — and  no  wonder  !  in  this  fast  age — for  the  leanest 
and  lamest  of  hacks.  The  man  of  the  people,  lusty  in  limb  and 
daring  in  soul,  who  has  hewn  out,  step  by  step,  a  path  to  great- 
ness,  laughs  with  an  amusement  too  downright  to  be  tinctured 


168  H  i:  M  K  B  1  8  . 

with  contempt,  at  the  weak-bodied,  anu  weaker-headed  pigmy, 
the  offspring  of  intermarriage  No.  50,  burdened  by  a  name  big- 
ger than  himself,  who  yet  struts  at  an  easy  gait,  through  the 
jostling  masses  of  common  clay  ;  thumbs  in  his  arm-holes,  noso 
b  the  air,  and  pipes  shrilly  of  his  "  illustrious  parentage,"  and 
the  "  gallant  old  times." 

We  say  it  is  contemptible,  a  humiliating  spectacle — but  let  ua 
not  despise  the  fountain,  because  its  stream,  by  reason  of  manv 
diversions,  has  grown  thin  and  feeble.  The  Old  Dominion  was 
a  royal  State,  and  her  sons  among  the  princes,  in  gentle  breed- 
ing as  in  valor  ;  men  of  pith  and  sinew  and  brains,  who,  could 
they  revisit  the  earth,  would  scout  as  an  insult,  the  claims  to 
ancestry,  so  flaunting}}-  borne  by  certain  of  their  grandchildren. 

At  the  period  on  which  we  have  settled,  after  the  leap  in  oui 
history,  there  was  an  unusual  religious  interest  astir  in"  the  region. 
The  leaven  of  wholesome  doctrine  sedulously  and  faithfully  dis- 
tributed, was  working  out  its  legitimate  result.  Here,  the  ma- 
terial was  unpromising.  French  infidelity,  fashionable  careless-, 
ness,  and,  in  the  menial  classes,  benighted  superstition,  the  remnants 
of  Fetish  worship  and  Obi  incantations,  were  compounded  into  a 
mixture  that  would  have  daunted  hearts  less  stout,  and  faith  less 
vigorous  than  those  of  .the  devoted  band,  who  were,  emphatically, 
home  missionaries.  It-was  an  event,  pregnant  with  interest  to  those 
conversant  with  the  religious,  or  irreligious  history  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, when  a  session  of  Presbytery  was  convened  to  ordain  and 
install  a  pastor,  over  the  whiloine  deserted  church  of  Deep  Run. 
There  was  to  be  a  meeting  of  several  days'  duration  ;  and  those  who 
acknowledged  no  special  personal  concern  in  such  things,  were 
yet  ready  to  accept  of  the  novel  entertainment,  promised  by  the 
arrangements  going  forward. 

The  services  commenced  on  Saturday.  Farm-work  was  sus- 
pended, and  all  classes,  in  their  gala  attire,  thronged  the  road  to 
the  sanctuary.  It  was:  the  same  small  wooden  building  that  Ind 


IT  E  M  E  8  1  8  .  169 

been  erected  in  the  late  Mr.  Argyle's  time  ;  but  it  had  recently 
undergone  thorough  repairs,  and — a  bold  innovation  upon  the 
^usages  of  the  day^it  was  painted  within  and  without.  Nay 
more  ;  upon  the  desk,  heretofore  a  brown,  naked  board,  was  a 
crimson  damask  cushion,  supporting  a  new  Bible  1  The  like  had 
not  been  witnessed  in  the  county  by  the  oldest  man  there 
Booths,  thatched  with  green  boughs,  surrounded  the  house,  and 
the  crowd  that  filled  them,  proved  the  wisdom  of  this  provident 
coTi*,rivance  for  church  extension.  The  ceremonies  of  the  occa- 
sion, solemn  in  their  simplicity,  were  performed  amidst  a  stillness 
profound,  and  apparently  respectful,  and  the  sermon  heard  aa 
attentively.  . 

The  congregation  broke  up  for  intermission,  and  a  lively  scene 
ensued.  By  a  sort  of  natural  gravitation,  the  divided  members 
of  each  household  sought  a  common  centre,  and  groups  of  rela- 
tives and  friends  were  presently  scattered  through  the  woods, 
inclosing  the  church,  dispensing  and  receiving  the  bountiful  lun- 
cheons they  had  brought  from  home.  Tables  of  primitive  con- 
struction— rough  boards,  supported  by  forked  stakes,  were  erected 
in  a  few  minutes,  and  their  imperfections  concealed  by  snowy 
cloths.  The  edibles  were  set  in  array  by  the  zealous  and  prac- 
tised servants,  and,  behold  a  meal  that  an  epicure  might  have 
envied,  and  a  dining-hall,  unsurpassed  by  kingly  saloon. 

"  I  ordered  that  our  table  should  be  joined  to  Malcolm's," 
eaid  a  lady,  conspicuous,  even  in  the  large  crowd,  for  her  fine 
bearing  and  elegant  attire.  She  spoke  to  an  elderly  woman,  low 
in  stature  and  plainly  dressed,  with  an  enormous  black  bonnet 
?n,  who  was  superintending  the  unpacking  of  some  hampers. 

"  Very  well  1"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"  I  *ish  the  dinner  to  be  arranged  as  neatly  as  possible,"  con- 
tinued the  lady,  "  for  we  have  some  friends  with  us — a  friend, 
rather — who  is  accustomed  to  the  best  of  everything." 
•  A  sniff  from  the  cavernous  -ecec.1^  of  the  bonnet,  and  a  coa- 

8 


170  NEMESIS. 

temptuous  heave  of  the  article  itself,  replied.  The  little  womau'i 
(ace  was  invisible. 

"  Malcolm  !  Malcolm  !  step  this  way,  3ne  moment,  if  you 
please  1"  cried  the  lady,  excitedly,  as  Mi  Argyle  approached 
with  several  other  gentlemen. 

With  an  apology,  he  left  them  at  the  board,  and  withdrew 
some  paces  with  his  sister. 

"  Miss  Rashleigh  and  her  governess  are  to  dine  with  us  to-day, 
and  I  thought  you  would  oblige  Mr.  Moreau  and  myself  so  far, 
as  to  pay  them  some  attention.  Being  strangers  in  the  county, 
they  will  appreciate  a  kindness  of  that  sort.  Here  they  come, 
with  Mr.  Moreau.  My  dear  1"  stepping  forward  to  meet  him — 
"  where  have  you  been  ?  I  began  to  fear  that  you  had  lost  these 
ladies." 

Mr.  Argyle  resisted  the  impulse  to  refuse  his  sister's  request, 
and  awaited,  with  outward  equanimity,  her  return  and  the 
threatened  introduction.  Meanwhile,  his  eye  discerned  nothing 
especially  attractive  in  the  strangers.  They  were  a  young  girl, 
rosy-cheeked  and  black-eyed,  with  an  arch  expression  on  a  pretty 
little  mouth,  and  a  lady,  much .  older,  dressed  in  black,  with 
features  that  were  certainly  not  handsome,  although  indicative  of 
amiability  and  intelligence. 

"  Miss  Rashleigh,  let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  my  brother, 
Mr.  Argyle.  Mrs.  Holt — Mr.  Argyle,"  said  Mrs.  Moreau,  with 
infinite  suavity,  and,  polished  woman  of  the  world  though  she 
was,  betraying  her  anxiety  that  the  introduction  should  be 
mutually  agreeable. 

The  prospect  of  its  improvement  upon  the  mere  introduction 
was  poor.  Mr.  Argyle  bowed,  without  unclosing  his  firm  lips, 
and  the  ladies,  courtesying,  looked  at  the  ground,  not  at  him. 

"  I  hope  your  friends  will  be  well  attended  to,  Eleanor.  Please 
regard  the  whole  of  this  table  as  your  own." 

And,  having  thus  eased  his  conscience,  and  fullilled  the  dictate! 


W  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  17* 

of  politeness,  Mr.  Aigyle  bowed  again,  and  rejoined  the  company 
he  himself  had  brought  hither.  Mrs.  Moreau's  brunette  com' 
plexion  took  a  warmer  tinge  from  vexation,  and  her  husband 
shrugged  hLs  shoulders,  in  comical  despair,  as  he  met  her  eye. 
Then,  they  devoted  themselves  to  the  comfort  of  their  guests,  as 
if  to  compensate  for  the  neglect  of  him  who  should  hare  been 
master  of  ceremonies.  Miss  llaslileigh  nor  hei  governess  appeared 
in  the  least  mindful  of,  or  discomposed  by,  his  want  of  gallantry. 
The  latter  discussed  her  luncheon  and  talked  quietly,  at  intervals, 
with  her  hosts;  the  former  gazed  upon  the  scene  with  the  pleased 
curiosity  of  one  to  whom  it  was  new  and  striking. 

"  It  appears  quite  barbarous  to  you,  I  dare  say,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Moreau,  noticing  the  wonder  that  deprived  her  of  appetite. 
"  You  never  saw  anything  like  it  before  ?" 
"  Never.     But  I  like  it  1"  emphatically. 
"  Such   gatherings   are   infrequent   here.      In  fact,  they  are 
usually  confined  to  the  lower  classes  ;  but  there  are  two  or  three 
influential  gentlemen  in  this  immediate  neighborhood,  who  have 

taken  up  the  cause  of  the  Dissenters  " 

"  I  thought  there  was  no  Established  Church  hi  the  United 
States,"  interrupted  Miss  Rashleigh. 

Eleanor  colored  at  this  rebuff  of  her  delicate  design  to  employ 
a  term  that  would  best  convey  her  meaning,  and,  likewise,  her 
sympathy  with  what  she  imagined  were  her  companion's  prejudices. 
"  There  is  not,  strictly  speaking.  The  word  slipped  but 
unawares.  The  best  families  in  Virginia  are  descended,  for  the 
most  part,  from  those  who  were  in  Communion  with  the  Estab- 
lishments of  England  and  Scotland.  Other  denominations  are 
comparatively  a  new  thing.  Receutly,  however,  as  I  was  saying, 
th?y  have  grown  into  popular  favor,  and  the  sect  represented 
here  to-day  is  really  becoming  respectable  in  the  quality  and 
in  the  quantity  of  its  members.  And  it  is  well  enough  !  The 
masses  need  a  religion  that  they  can  understand,  to  elevate  them, 


172  NEMESIS. 

and  if  their  betters  take  the  lead,  they  are  the  more  apt  to  follow 
There  is  my  brother,  for  example — who,  acting  upon  this  belief, 
has  exerted  himself  in  repairing  the  old  church,  and  settling  a 
regular  clergyman.  Yet  he  is  not  a  'professor  of  religion/  as 
their  phrase  is.  Sanguine  as  the  enthusiasts  are  of  '  bringing  him 
over,'  we,  who  understand  him,  see  that  he  is  actuated  only  by  a 
desire  for  the  moral  improvement  of  the  people." 

"  A  commendable  instance  of  public  spirit  I"  smiled  the  young 
lady. 

Mrs.  Moreau  was  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  there  was,  or  waa 
not  a  spice  of  sarcasm  in  her  tone.  A  second's  meditation  showed 
her  the  improbability  of  the  suspicion,  and  she  went  on  : 

"  Moreover,  he  is  one  of  the  most  affectionate  men  alive,  dis- 
tant as  he  seems  in  general  society;  and  his  old  housekeeper — the 
nurse  of  us  all — is  greatly  attached  to  her  church.  He  spares  no 
trouble  or  expense  to  humor  her  whims,  and  I  must  say,  she  is 
fond  of  him,  poor  creature  I  in  her  odd  way,  and  manages  his 
household  wonderfully  well.  That  is  she  !  the  queer,  dwarfish 
figure,  pouring  out  a  glass  of  water  for  him.  Would  you  not 
think,  from  his  smile  and  bow,  that  she  was  a  countess  ?" 

"  Queen  Mab,  perhaps,  somewhat  advanced  in  years,"  returned 
Miss  Rashleigh  ;  and  if  she  remarked  how  becoming  was  that 
smile  to  the  proud,  grave  features  of  the  lauded  "  brother,"  his 
eister  was  none  the  wiser  for  it. 

"  Mr.  Laidley  wishes  to  pay  his  respects  to  you,  Eleanor," 
said  Mr.  Argyle,  coming  up  to  the  Moreaus'  end  of  the  table. 

"  And,  fearing  lest  I  might  not  be  recognized,  I  solicited  youi 
brother's  good  offices  to  make  me  known,"  subjoined  that  gentle- 
man. "  It  has  been  many  years  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  you,  madam.  May  I  ask  you  to  present  me  to  Mr 
Moreau  ?" 

His  benevolent  countenance  and  pleasant  voice  were  an  instant 
recommendation  to  Miss  Rashleigh's  favor.  Her  expressive  eye* 


NKME6I8.  173 

laid  this  so  plainly,  that  Eleanor  did  not  hesitate  to  introduce 
him  to  her  also.  He  looked  earnestly  at  her,  as  if  he  wished  to 
engage  her  in  conversation  ;  but  the  bustle  of  another  approach 
and  recognition  separated  them. 

'*  Why,  there  is  Marcia  Carrington  1"  exclaimed  Eleanor,  as  a 
gaily-dressed  lady  came  eagerly  toward  her. 

Mr.  Argyle  stood  accidentally  next  to  Miss  Rashleigh,  and  she 
felt  him  start  and  move,  as  if  to  go  away.  He  changed  his  pur- 
pose, however,  and  stood  his  ground. 

"  My  dear  Eleanor  !"  cried  the  new-comer,  kissing  Mrs. 
Moreau  affectionately  ;  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  young 
and  well  1  How  are  you,  Mr.  Moreau  ?  Mr.  Argyle  " — blushing, 
as  he  bowed  instead  of  shaking  hands,  as  she  evidently  expected 
hun  to  do. 

"  How  natural  everything  and  everybody  seems  1  and  I  have 
not  been  home  before  for  five  years  I  How  are  your  children, 
Eleanor  ?  I  have  three  of  mine  here  with  me,  to-day  ;  I  never 
stir  without  them." 

Eleanor  took  advantage  of  her  pause,  to  name  her  stranger- 
guests.  Miss  Rashleigh  touched  her  governess's  arm,  when  the 
dialogue  between  the  friends  was  resumed  ;  and, '  Mr.  Moreau, 
being  also  engaged  in  talk  with  other  acquaintances,  the  two  left 
the  group  unperceived.  A  footman,  English  in  face  and  dress, 
obeyed  a  motion  from  the  younger  lady,  and  followed  them. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Moreau  !"  said  his  wife,  presently,  breaking  off  in 
the  flow  of  inquiries  and  answers,  "  where  are  Miss  Rashleigk 
and  Mrs.  Holt  ?'» 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,  my  dear,"  replied  he,  looking  about 
him,  as  Bopeep  might  have  done,  when  her  sheep  "  were  all  a- 
fleeting." 

"  Do  go,  and  look  for  them  !  I  should  never  forgive  myself, 
if  they  were  to  fed  slighted,  or  if  anything  were  to  happen  to 
them  They  know  nobody  here,  except  ourselvo^." 


174  NEMESIS. 

"  Who  are-they  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Carringtor*.  as  Mr.  Moreau  weni 
meekly  oil  bis  hunt. 

"Haven't  you  heard  of  them?  Mr.  Moreai's  English  rela- 
tives, who  have  bought  Briarwood  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Ma  was  telling  me  about  them,  and  of  Cousin 
Nancy's  ingratitude  in  accepting  the  place  of  housekeeper — 
stewardess,  she  calls  it — after  all  that  ma  has  done  for  her — and 
only  because  this  Mr.  " 

"  Coloml  Rashleigh,"  corrected  Eleanor. 

"  Colonel,  then,  offered  such  a  high  salary  for  a  competent 
manager  1  Mrs.  Rashleigh  is  too  fine  a  lady,  I  hear,  to  attend 
to  domestic  affairs." 

"  Colonel  Rashleigh  is  Mr.  Moreau's  uncle  !"  said  Eleanor,  so 
dignifiedly,  that  her  insensitive  friend  could  not  but  take  the  hint. 

"  Is  he  ?  I  beg  your  pardon  for  speaking  so  freely.  After  all, 
there  is  no  dependence  to  be  put  in  reports.  I  often  tell  Mr. 
Carrington  that  I  do  not  believe  one  half  of  what  I  hear.  I  have 
my  hands  so  full  of  my  own  business — servants  and  babies,  and 
ail  that,  that  I  have  precious  little  time  for  scandal " 

"  As  I  was  saying,"  continued  Mrs.  Moreau,  in  the  old  Eleanor 
A.rgyle  manner,  "  one  of  the  principal  reasons  which  Colonel 
Rashleigh  had  for  settling  in  Virginia — in  America,  indeed — was, 
that  he  might  be  near  his  nephew.  Mr.  Moreau  is  the  son  of  the 
colonel's  sister,  whose  marriage  with  a  Frenchman  and  subse- 
quent emigration  so  displeased  her  family,  that,  for  many  yours, 
they  refused  to  hold  any  communication  with  her.  About  three 
years  ago,  Mr.  Moreau,  as  her  only  surviving  son,  received  a 
letter  from  his  uncle,  asking  information  respecting  himself  and 
family,  and  since  then,  they  have  kept  up  a  constant  correspcm- 
der.ce.  We  have  often  entreated  the  old  gentleman  to  come  out 
to  this  country,  for  having  no  son  of  his  own,  he  appears  to  feel 
that  his  nephew  is  the  stay  of  his  house.  So,  last  fall,  he  com- 
missioned Mi  Moii'uu  to  purchase  Brierwood — we  having  written 


NEMESIS.  1 71 

lo  him  a  description  of  the  place,  arid  that  it  was  for  sale — and 
they  took  possession,  this  spring." 

"  He  is  very  wealthy,  I  suppose,"  said  Marcia. 

Matrimony  had  not  tended  to  alter  the  prosaic  turn  of  hei 
character.  She  was  .-till  literal  and  material  as  ever. 

"  So  it  is  believed,"  answered  Eleanor,  with  cautious  signifi- 
cancy.  "  His  establishment  is  extremely  handsome,  and  his  ex- 
penditures lavish.  Then  his  wife  and  daughter  have  the  air  of 
people  who  have  always  moved  hi  the  highest  circles." 

"  That  was  Mrs.  Rashleigh  here,  just  now — was  it  not  ?" 

Eleanor  looked  provoked.  "  No,  indeed  1  only  the  governess 
— a  nice  sort  of  person,  but  a  mere  nobody.  Mrs.  Rashleigb 
must  have  been  very  beautiful  in  her  youth.  She  is  tall  and 
dignified — almost  too  stately  ;  pale,  and  rather  reserved  in  man- 
ner. Her  health  has  not  been  good  for  a  long  while.  Colonel 
Rashleigh  hopes  that  the  change  of  climate  may  be  beneficial  to 
her.  He  is  her  senior  by  twenty  years  or  more,  and  seems 
devotedly  attached  to  her." 

"  Certainly  ^-of  course  1"  Mrs.  Carrington  assented,  abstractedly 
She  was  looking  quite  away  from  the  speaker,  whose  discourse 
was  more  entertaining  to  herself  than  to  any  one  else,  outside  the 
pale  of  family  interests.  "  Your  brother  has  changed  a  great 
deal  since  I  last  saw  him,"  she  observed,  casually,  not  at  all  like 
one  who  had  any  special  concern  in  him  or  his  looks. 

"  In  what  respect  ?"  asked  Eleanor,  coolly. 

"  He  has  grown  older  and  has  a  grave — I  was  about  to  say, 
a  stern  air." 

"  The  natural  consequence  of  increase  of  years  and  responsi- 
bility," Mrs.  Moreau  replied,  yet  more  frigidly.  "He  is  con- 
tented, happy  and  useful.  His  warmest  friends  could  ask  fof 
nothing  better  for  him.  We — his  relations — beg  him  to  marrj 
for  the  sake  of  the  name  and  estate ;  but  he  laughs  at  the  ide« 
of  resigning  the  liberty  that  he  loves." 


17(5  NEMESIS. 

And  having,  as  "she  flattered  herself,  inflicted  a  wound  in  tha 
self-love  of  her  dear  friend,  she  proposed  a  return  to  the  church 

Miss  Rashleigh's  ramble  with  her  governess  soon  led  theo>  out 
of  the  temporary  encampment.  Beyond  the  wooded  hill,  that 
formed  the  site  of  the  church,  was  another — higher,  and  crowned 
with  luxuriant  pines.  On  its  summit,  protected  by  a  rampart  of 
these  sturdy  evergreens,  was  a  circular  clearing,  and  in  its  centre 
was  a  small  inclosure,  bounded  by  a  white  paling. 

"  It  is  a  grave  1"  said  Miss  Rashleigh,  in  a  whisper  of  intense 
awe,  checking  herself  within  a  few  feet  of  the  spot.  Her  large 
eyes  were  raised  mournfully  to  her  companion,  and  her  blooming 
cheek  faded. 

"So  I  suppose,  my  dear,"  returned  Mrs.  Holt,  soothingly. 
"  There  is  nothing  in  the  circumstance  to  alarm  or  astonish  you. 
It  is  near  the  church,  and  is  a  lovely  situation  for  '  the  housa 
appointed  to  all  the  living.'  Is  there  a  headstone  ?" 

The  girl  approached  with  her,  and  read  aloud  the  inscription  • 


"MARK  HALE, 
OBIT.  FEB'T  xi.,  MDCCXCIX. 

JETAT.  XXVII. 

'  Here  remaineth  therefore  a  rtet  for  the  people  of  God.' 


There  was  a  hush  of  some  minutes.  Both  ladies  remained 
gazing,  spell-bound  by  some  indefinable  attraction,  upon  the  iroun«3 
and  its  simple  memorial-stone.  "Was  it  the  wish  of  the  sleeper  to 
be  buried  here  ?  Did  his  young  head  lie  more  softly  upon  the 
pillovr,  with  the  lulling  pines  for  sentinels,  and  the  dew  and  sun- 
shine falling  freely  upon  his  green  coverlet  ?  Whose  loving  hand 
had  laid  out  the  mystic  circle  for  his  last  chamber  ? — had,  for 
twelve  years,  renewed  the  earth  and  turf,  and  the  railing  that  f.->r 


N  E  M  E  &  I  8  .  177 

bade  the  intrusion  of  a  stranger  foot  ?  What  heart,  crushed  by 
his  untimely'  death,  had  sought  solace  in  the  pious  offices  f 
"  Twenty-seven  1"  In  that  short  life,  had  sorrow  or  toil  taught 
him  the  value  of  eternal  "  rest  ?" 

"  It  was  very  solemn — very  sad  I"  thought  Miss  Rashleigh, 
with  a  pained  heart.  Had  she  been  alone,  she  could  have  wept. 
No  cemetery,  crowded  with  the  insignia  of  mortality,  had  ever 
made  her  feel  the  nothingness  of  life — the  certainty  of  death — aa 
did  this  forest  grave. 

"  He  was  a  son— or  a  brother — a  husband — perhaps  even  a 
father  !"  she  mused  aloud.  "  It  is  a  beautiful  world  I"  Her 
gaze  sought  the  rich,  blue  sky,  and  she  dre-w  a  long  inspiration 
of  the  freeh  air,  aromatic  with  the  scent  of  the  pines.  "  A  beauti- 
ful world — but  there  are  broken  hearts  and  graves  everywhere  ! 
—everywhere  1" 

"  '  Some  mute,  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest, 

Some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood,'  " 

quoted  Mrs.  Holt. 

Something  of  her  accustomed  archness  came  back  to  Miss 
Rashlcigh's  countenance. 

"  This  is  Saturday — not  Sunday,  Mrs.  Holt,  and,  as  I  am  not 
a  Jewess,  I  shall  not  return  to  the  synagogue  over  there  ;  I  mean  to 
sit  me  down  upon  the  grass  here,  in  Nature's  temple,  aud  let  her 
preach  to  me  until  it  is  time  to  go  home." 

"  My  dear  !  you  are  not  in  earnest !" 

"  Indeed  I  am,  ma'am  !  Listen  to  the  song  of  the  pines  !  They 
speak  of  solemn  and  beautiful  things  to. me.  Stay  with  me  and 
hear  them,  and  look  up  to  this  blue  canopy  above  us,  and  the 
white  clouds  sailing  over  it,  like  angel-fleets  !  It  will  do  yon 
more  good  than  a  sermon  of  man's  devising." 

The  governess  was  seriously  perplexed.  Her  pupil  was  capa 
ble  of  carrying  out  her  freak,  if  only  through  sheer  w;llfuhi'>s- 

8" 


i  78  H  £  M  B  8  I  8  . 

Remonstrance  might  confirm  her  in  the  notion,  and  it  was  not 
Mrs.  Holt's  way  to  command,  if  persuasion  could  avuii  to  gain 
her  purpose.  What  would  the  Moreaus  feel  and  tMnk  and 
Bay  ?  And  Colonel  Rashleigh — the  pink  of  propriety — what  his 
judgment  would  be,  if  this  infringement  of  established  custom 
reached  his  ears,  she  could  imagine,  but  not  brave. 

"  Surely,  my  love  " 

She  had  advanced  these  three  words  in  the  delicate  piece  of 
diplomacy  she  meditated,  when  help  arrived  from  another  quarter. 
The  crackling  of  dry  sticks,  under  footsteps  ascending  the  hill, 
startled  Miss.  Rashleigh  from  the  seat  she  had  chosen. 

"  Our  sanctuary  is  invaded !"  she  said,  hurriedly.  "  We 
will  go!" 

Casting  a  parting  glance  of  pity  and  curiosity  on  the  grave, 
she  turned  away  ;  but  not  until  two  gentlemen  stepped  withiu 
the  circle. 

They  were  Mr.  Argyle  and  Mr.  Laidley.  The  elder  gentle- 
man leaned  upon  the  arm  of  the  other,  and  stopped  on  the  edge 
of  the  clearing  to  regain  breath,  after  the  steep  ascent.  Both 
raised  their  hats  to  the  ladies,  without  speaking,  and  received 
as  silent  acknowledgments  of  the  courtesy.  Mr.  Laidley  spoke, 
in  a  subdued  voice,  yet  one  that  was  heard  distinctly  by  the  re- 
tiring visitors : 

"  And  you  buried  him  he*e  I    I  could  say,  '  God  bless  you  fcf 


NEUEBIB.  179 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

'Ji  *»NEL  RASHIEIGH  read  English  news,  of  a  month  before,  that 
t  aJag  ;  two  silver  candlesticks  at  one  elbow  ;  his  gold  snuff- 
b  v  ojxm  upon  the  shelf  attached  to  the  other  arm  of  his  great 
cl>  \r.  The  Briarwood  establishment  was  but  a  couple  of  weeks 
olf\  and  all  went  on,  as  if  two  years  ago,  or  twenty,  had  beheld 
its  oi^aiiization.  Acting,  unconsciously,  upon  the  principle  gar- 
deners regard  in  transplantation,  the  master  of  the  household 
had  broight  along  as  much  of  England,  as  he  could,  to  the  new 
world.  His  own  man,  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  maid  and  Miss  Rash- 
leigh's  governess,  a  coachman  and  a  footman  were  imported, 
with  much  of  the  furniture  belonging  to  his  former  home.  How 
the  exotic  system,  he  aimed  to  ingraft  upon  American  and 
Southern  society,  would  work,  was  yet  to  be  proved. 

He  certainly  looked  comfortable  enough  now.  The  room  was 
fitted  up  with  library  furniture,  oaken  and  massive,  and  darkened 
by  time  ;  high-backed  chairs,  with  seats  of  leather  or  tapestry  ; 
heavy  curtains,  summer  though  it  was  ;  and  book-cases  filled  with 
many  venerable,  and  some  modern  volumes.  The  colonel  him- 
self was  a  portly  figure,  with  a  florid  complexion  and  white  hair, 
sitting  and  standing  very  uprightly,  and  marked  in  every  linea- 
ment and  motion,  as  a  man  used  to  his  peculiar  way  of  thinking 
and  doing,  and  whose  confident  expectation  was  that  the  insigni- 
ficant remainder  of  mankind  should  think  and  act  like  him. 

Eleanor's  description  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  persondk  did  credit  to 
her  powers  as  a  limner.  She  occupied  a  chair  on  the  other  sid« 


180  NEMESIS. 

of  the  table,  and  a  book  lay  in  her  lap,  which  had  not  been 
opened  during  the  half-hour  she  had  sat  there.  Her  small,  slight 
hands  were  crossed  in  listlessness  or  langour — so  still,  that  the 
lace  ruffles  bordering  her  wrists  did  not  quiver.  She  wore  her 
natural  hair — abundant  still,  its  many  silver  threads  showing 
brightly  amidst  its  original  blackness.  Color  and  flesh  would 
have  been  to  her  the  gift  of  beauty,  by  obliterating  the  lines  that 
commemorated  the  ravages  of  ill-health  or  scathing  griefs.  Her 
paleness  was  unnatural,  we  had  almost  said  unearthly  ;  and  the 
dusky  eye  reminded  the  observer  of  an  extinct  volcano. 

"  Margaret  1  where  is  Katherine  ?"  inquired  the  Colonel,  low- 
ering his  paper. 

"  She  went  to  her  room  after  tea.     Shall  I  send  for  her  ?" 

Her  motion  toward  a  hand-bell,  that  stood  between  them,  was 
arrested  by  a  gliding  step  in  the  passage,  and  the  appearance  ol 
the  daughter.  She  entered  quickly  and  .lightly,  without  bustle  or 
stiffness,  and  the  dim,  stately  room  seemed  brightened  by  her  pre- 
sence. Mrs.  Holt  followed,  netting  in  hand,  and  seated  herself  at 
a  respectful  distance  from  the  light.  Not  so  the  petted  child  of 
the  household.  She  had  also  her  netting-box,  and  establishing 
herself  on  her  father's  wide  footstool,  she  plied  the  tiny  ivory 
shuttle  diligently,  for  the  space  of  fully  three  minutes  and  a  half 

'  Mrs.  Holt,"  she  said  then,  softly,  as  desiring  not  to  disturb 
the  august  reader,  "  does  not  this  very  fine  lace-work  hurt  your 
eyes  by  candlelight  ?  It  does  mine." 

"  You  look  at  it  more  fixedly  than  is  necessary,  perhaps,"  said 
the  governess. 

"  What  did  you  say  about  your  eyes  ?"  demanded  Colonel 
Rashleigh.  "  That  is  very  improper  work  for  the  evening, 
Katherine.  Are  you  pressed  for  time  ?  You  had  better  put  it 
aside  for  daylight.  It  displeases  me  to  see  you  trifle  with  youi 
sight  in  that  absurd  manner." 

"  I  ana  making  lace  for  my  wedding-dros,  pupa,"  and  tho>  tin 


NEMESIS.  181 

gers  went  faster  than  before.  "  That  thought,  if  not  the  work, 
keeps  me  awake  while  you  are  reading  that  endless  newspaper.  ] 
felt  as  if  my  evil  genius  had  chased  me  across  the  water,  when  I 
saw  you  tear  off  the  cove:  this  afternoon.  The  gnm,  finely- 
printed  columns  looked  so  frightfully  familiar." 

"  You  are  an  unreasonable  child  !"  But  his  accent  and  invo- 
luntary smile  overcame  any  impression  of  rebuke  conveyed  by  the 
words.  There  was  a  whole  page  still  untra veiled  by  his  specta- 
cles ;  yet  he  deliberately  folded  the  sheet  and  laid  it  away  under 
a  heavy  book  upon  the  table. 

With  an  alacrity  that  cast  a  shade  of  doubt  upon  the  reality 
of  her  recent  industrious  fit,  Katherine  shut  up  her  work-box  aud 
placed  it  beside  her  ancient  enemy. 

"  Now  !"  she  said,  looking  up  at  the  Colonel,  whose  air  wag 
marvellously  benignant,  considering  the  mighty  sacrifice  he  had 
just  made. 

"  And  now  !"  he  echoed,  making  an  effort  to  appear  grave. 
"  Have  you  nothing  to  say  for  my  amusement  ?  Will  the  history 
of  your  day's  entertainment  console  me  for  the  loss  of  ray  paper  ?" 

"  Doubtful  1"  She  shook  her  head  in  assumed  anxiety.  "  I 
will  do  my  best,  however.  You  heard  me  telling  mamma  at  the 
tea-table  about  the  religious  services — the  ordination  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  said  then  that  the  events  between  the  sermons 
were  of  a  remarkable  character.  I  understood  you  to  make  aa 
observation  to  that  effect." 

"  You  are  right,  sir.  We  had  a  veritable  gipsy  encampment 
•inder  the  trees  ;  only  gipsies  do  not  have- a  superabundance  of 
exquisitely-cooked  viands,  spread  upon  damask  by  attendant  Afri« 
cans  ;  nor  do  they  sip  wine  from  cut-glass,  and  eat  roast  chicken 
from  china  plates.  Mrs.  Moreau,  whose  attentions  were  unceas- 
ing, invited  us  to  dine  with  IHT,  and,  when  we  were  expecting  to 
be  handed  to  our  carriage,  to  accompany  her  home,  Mr.  Momim 
us  up  to  one  of  .hc-s.e  fairy-like  banquets." 


182  NEMESIS 

"  I  doubt,  my  dear,  if  your  simile  is  altogether  just,"  inter- 
posed  Mrs.  Holt.  "  The  food  you  have  described  would  be  more 
unsuitable  upon  Titania's  board  than  in  a  gipsy  camp.  You  re- 
member the  dam  ties  she  enumerates  to  Bottom  : 

'  Apricocks  and  dewberries ; 
With  purple  grapes,  green  figs  and  mulberries.1 " 

"  Modern  elves  are  more  substantial  in  taste,"  replied  Katherine, 
merrily.  "  Did  not  I  enjoy  the  fare  I  have  eulogized,  and  did 
not  Mr.  Moreau — my  '  cousin  Robert,'  as  he  insists  I  shall  call 
him — tell  me  that  I  was  a  wood-fairy  ?" 

"  What !"  said  Colonel  Rashleigh,  frowning  slightly  ;  for  his 
ideas  upon  certain  points  were  strict.  "  He  is  disposed  to  be 
complimentary  upon  a  short  acquaintance." 

"  He  meant  to  be  polite,  I  suppose,  papa  ;  but  he  looked 
almost  vexed  when,  after  an  ineffectual  hunt  of  half  an  hour  for 
us,  we  emerged  from  the  forest,  directly  across  his  path." 

"  The  forest  1     Were  you  unattended  ^" 

"0  no,  sir  1  Thomas  was  with  us." 

"  Yery  proper,  I  should  be  displeased  to  learn  that  you  went 
without  him.  Go  on  with  your  narrative." 

"  Where  was  I  ?  I  recollect !  at  the  table.  The  first  dish 
was  an  introduction  to  his  grace,  the  Duke." 

"  Whom  ?"     Mrs.  Rashleigh  had  not  spoken  until  now. 

"  To  Malcolm  Argyle,  Lord  of  Ben  Lomond  and  the  adjacent 
territory,  who  graciously  consented  that  we  should  be  presented 
then  and  there,  the  occasion  warranting  a  deviation  from  the 
ordinary  rules  of  cotirt  etiquette  ;  and  vouchsafed  the  additional 
honor  of  an  invitation  through  his  sister,  to  dine  at  the  royal 
board." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Rashleigh,"  said  the  conscientious  governess, 
"  you  are  disposed  to  be  severe  to-night.  Mr.  Argyle  appeared 


NEMESIS.  183 

to  ine  to  be  a  handsome  gentleman,  of  courtly  presence  it  is  true, 
rather  taciturn,  perhaps,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  detected 
nothing  offensive  iu  his  deportment.  On  the  contrary,  I  thought 
his  conduct,  and  the  two  sentences  I  heard  him  utter,  graceful 
and  proper." 

Like  Colonel  Rashleigh,  Mrs.  Holt  considered  the  concluding 
epithet  the  acme  of  praise  when  applied  to  behavior. 

"  I  do  not  dispute  his  comeliness,"  said  Kathcrine.  "  Hia 
features,  were  cast  in  a  regular  mould.  He  evidently  considers 
that  nature,  having  done  her  work  thoroughly,  can  dispense  with 
any  aid  from  him.  Yet,  there  are  degrees  of  perfection,  and  a 
smile  heightens  the  beauty  of  this  Adonis  ;  such  a  gleam  as  I 
saw  him  bestow  upon  his  familiar — a  species  of  '  Brownie,'  who 
presides  over  his  household,  and  ministers  to  his  physical  wants — 
in  other  words,  an  elfish  little  woman,  protected  from  sun,  rain, 
and  general  observation  by  a  hat,  that  I  venture  to  declare,  if 
the  identical  pattern  of  that  worn  by  Virginia  Dare's  mother." 

"  Virginia  Dare  !  I  do  not  remember  such  a  person,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  The  first  white  infant  born  in  these  American  colonies,' 
exclaimed  Katherine,  blushing  for  her  foolish  speech.  "  To 
return  to  the  Earl  Malcolm — I  am  positive  that  I  did  not  see 
him  smile  or  unbend  his  gravity,  except  in  this  one  instance. 
You  must  have  noticed,  Mrs.  Holt,  how  haughtily  he  received 

Mrs. ,  I  forget  her  name — the  lady  whom  Mrs.  Moreaa 

addressed  as  Marcia,  and  was  so  glad  to  meet.  She  was  an  old 
friend,  I  gathered  from  what  she  said,  an  early  playuate,  who 
had  married  and  removed  to  a  distance.  She  said  that  she  had 
not  been  'home'  before,  m  five  years.  Yet  Mr.  Argyle  did  not 
shake  hands  with  her,  when  hers  was  partly  extended  to  meet 
his.  No  iceberg  could  have  been  more  cold  and  repellant." 

"  He  deserves  our  compassion,'-  said  Mrs.  llashleigh,  drily 

"  Why  ?"  a»U-d  h,-r  daughter. 


ISt  NEMESIS, 

"  Because  of  his  failure  to  gain  your  good  will." 

It  was  seldom  that  a  sentence  savoring  of  irony  escaped  th« 
lady's  lips,  and  Katherine  felt  the  merited  reproof  keenly.  For  an 
instant,  she  struggled  with  the  rising  temper  or  shame  that 
suffused  her  eyes  ;  then,  in  a  victory,  that  did  honor  to  her  nature 
or  teaching,  replied  ingenuously  :  ^ 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  mamma,  and  thank  you  for  checking  rue. 
My  strictures  were  ill-natured,  and  probably  unjust.  My  spirits 
run  away  with  my  sense  of  right  entirely  too  often.  But " — the 
cloud  passing  as  suddenly  as  it  had  fallen — "  to  atone  for  my 
thoughtless  fault,  I  will  praise  everything  and  everybody  else, 
until  my  story  is  over — an  easy  task,  where  there  is  nothiug  to 
blame.  Mrs.  Holt,  I  have  a  bad  memory  for  names.  How  did 
Mrs.  Moreau  call  the  minister  who  preached  the  second  sermon  ? 
She  recognized  an  old  acquaintance  in  him,  and  introduced  him 
to  us  at  luncheon." 

"  Mr.  Laidley,"  prompted  the  governess. 

"  0  yes  1  I  really  fell  in  love  with  him,  and  i  liked  his  us- 
course  too.  There  was  an  irresistible  sweetness  and  sincerity  in 
bis  look  and  manner.  Did  you  not  think  his  voice  very  melodious 
for  one  of  his  age  ?  It  did  not  break  or  quaver,  all  the  while  he 
was  preaching,  and  in  singing,  it  was  yet  more  wonderful.  You 
must  have  distinguished  it — we  sat  so  near  the  pulpit.  I  was 
sorry  to  hear  Mrs.  Moreau  say  that  he  resided  some  distance 
away.  He  seldom  visits  this  part  of  the  country  now,  she  told 
me  ;  but  this  being  an  extraordinary  occasion,  some  of  his 
admirers — her  brother  among  them — wrote  him  an  urgent  request 
for  his  attendance." 

"You  considered  him  an  eloquent  orator — did  you,  Mrs. 
Holt  ?"  said  the  Colonel,  more  formally  than  he  had  spoken  with 
his  daughter. 

V  His  sermon  was  good,  sir  ;  unexceptionable,  as  to  its  "logic 
and  morala  It  was  more  hortatory  hi  its  character  than  I  have 


NEMESIS.  185 

oeen  u«cd  to  hear,  and  his  manner,  while  it  did  not  offend  a 
refined  taste,  was  warmer  than  a  clergyman  of  the  church  would 
have  adopted  on  such  an  occasion.  Nevertheless,  Miss  Rash- 
leigh's  picture  is  a  true  one.  He  reminded  me  vividly  of  Cowpert 
model  divine : 

'  His  theme  divine  ; 
Hu  office  sacred,  his  credentials  clear, 
By  him,  the  violated  law  speaks  out 
Its  thunders,  and  by  him,  in  strains  as  sweet 
As  angels  use,  the  Gospel  whispers  peace.1 " 

With  all  her  respect  for  her  instructress,  Katherine  had  a 
nervous  dread  of  her  mania  for  quotations.  Foreseeing  a  com- 
panion portrait  to  the  above,  from  some  other  esteemed  author, 
she  addressed  herself  hastily  to  her  mother. 

"  Mamma,  we  had  an  adventure — made  a  discovery  this  noon, 
that  saddened  and  interested  us.  As  I  have  said,  we  tired  of  the 
crowd,  and  rambled  off  into  the  wild,  beautiful  woods  that  sur- 
rounded the  church.  There  is  a  group  of  tall  grand  pines,  quite 
away  from  the  house — a  quarter  of  a  mile,  I  should  say.  Is  it 
not,  Mrs.  Holt  ?" 

"Scarcely  half  so  far,  my  dear  Miss  Eashleigh.  Yet  it  is 
difficult  to  judge  of  distance,  where  the  ground  is  so  uneven. 
We  climbed  a  hill,  you  remember." 

,  "  Yes,  ma'am.  And  on  the  top,  mamma,  there  was  a  circle 
where  no  trees  grew,  and  there  we  found  a  solitary  grave  ;  not 
neglected  and  overgrown,  as  if  a  forgotten  stranger  were  buried 
there,  but  neatly  railed  in,  and  the  turf  was  clipped  carefully.  I 
meant  to  have  inquired  of  Mrs.  Moreau  concerning  its  history 
but  the  bustle  after  church  drove  it  out  of  my  mind." 

"  That  it  was  cared  for  at  all  is  remarkable,"  observed  the 
Colonel.  "  The  general  neglect  of  burying-grounds  in  this  country 
displeases  me  exceedingly.  Th^re  are  duties  to  the  dead,  as  Wfil 


186  NEMESIS. 

as  to  the  living.  I  was  absolutely  shocked  at  the  condition  of 
the  graveyard  attached  to  this  plantation.  Not  a  tombstone  in 
the  whole  of  it  1" 

"  There  was  a  headstone  to  the  one  I  speak  of,"  said  Kathe 
rine,  "  and  although  an  unpretending,  by  no  means  a  rude  affair 
The  inscription  was  in  keeping  with  it."  Her  voice  sank  as  she 
repeated  it.  "'Mark  Hale.  Died  February  11,  1799.  Aged  27. 
•There  remaineth  therefore  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God.'  " 

The  governess  chanced  to  cast  her  eye  toward  Mrs.  Rashleigh, 
and  she  alone  noticed  the  sudden  clasping  of  the  taper  fingers  ; 
the  sallow,  greenish  hue,  that  overspread  the  always  pallid  cheek. 
The  eyes  closed,  and  the  brows  met  in  a  spasm,  deadly  in  its 
agony,  yet  so  brief  that  when  the  astounded  looker-on  recovered 
from  the  paralysis  of  faculties,  never  rash  in  their  impulses,  the 
lady  sat,  as  she  had  done,  throughout  the  rest  of  their  conver 
sation — impassive,  indifferent — the  impersonation  of  languor. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  yawned  behiad  his  hand,  and  stole  a  look  at 
the  unfinished  newspaper,  which  said  as  openly  as  words  could 
have  done,  that  the  topic  was  becoming  dull  to  him.  He  was  not 
romantic  himself.  His  mental  and  physical  conformations  resem- 
bled each  other  in  heaviness.  He  condescended  to  be  amused  by 
his  daughter,  because  she  was  his,  and  possessed  a  larger  propor- 
tion of  his  genuine  affection  than  any  other  creature  alive,  except- 
ing his  wife. 

Mrs.  Holt  was  not  backward  to  take  the  hint.  "  The  day  had 
been  a  fatiguing  one,"  she  soon  discovered,  "  and  the  nights  were 
growing  shorter.  With  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  permission,  she  would 
retire.  And,  if  she  might  take  the  liberty,  in  her  parents'  pre- 
sence, she  would  recommend  a  similar  course  to  Miss  Rashleigh." 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  consented  to  her  withdrawal,  and  ratified  hei 
counsel  to  her  pupil  by  a  bend  of  the  head.  The  Colonel  iiivari 
ably  sat  up  late  ;  why,  no  one  knew,  except  that  it  had,  been  hi« 
oabit  fronr  his  youth,  and  he  abhorred  any  departure  from  aucienf 


N  E  M  K  6  J  8.  187 

customs.  So.  when  Katherinc  saw  him  unfold  the  neglected 
periodica.,  and  repolish  his  spectacl-s,  she  arose,  with  an  inaudible 
sigh,  and  kissed  her  parents  "Go  •  night ." 

"You  are    pale,   mamma!"  id,    surprised    at   the  chUl 

fcmch  of  her  lips.     "  Do  you  feel  unwell  ?" 

"  Xo.  The  warm  weather  tries  my  strength.  I  shall  soon 
become  aeeustomed  to  it." 

Colonel  Rashleigh  rang  the  bell,  and  when  her  maid  appeared, 
gave  Mrs.  Rashleigh  his  arm  to  her  chamber  door.  There  he 
left  her,  and  returning  to  the  library,  summoned  his  man,  and 
sent  him  up  to  his  mistress  with  a  glass  of  old  wine,  which  he 
selected  and  poured  out  with  his  own  hands.  If  he  was  sparing 
of  verbal  expressions  of  fondness,  his  scrupulous  attention  to  her 
wants  and  extreme  respect  for  her  person  and  opinions,  bore  out 
Eleanor's  assertion  of  his  attachment  to  his  wife. 

It  was  too  early  for  Kathcriue  to  sleep,  and  the  lovclin* 
the  May  night  lured  her  to  the  window.  -It  was  very  calm  and 
bright — a  still,  fragrant  hour.  The  young  girl  crossed  her  arms 
on  the  window-seat  and  leaned  out — her  face  sadly  changed  from 
the  joyous  air  she  ^iad  worn  below  stairs.  She  was  very  lonely- 
hearted — this  favorite  of  fortune — desolate,  with  the  yearning 
desolation  that  wails  unceasingly  through  the  empty  "Innermost  " 
of  the  soul,  for  love  !  fullness  of  love  ! 

It  was  a  coarse,  cruel  sneer — unworthy  of  one  of  England's 
-t  artists — when  he  said,  that  "a  woman  had  rather  K- 
courted  and  jilted,  than  never  to  be  courted  at  all."  Another, 
whom  the  alchemy  of  sorrow  had  tested  and  purified,  has  brought 
aut  from  this  rough  stone  the  lustre  of  a  truth,  as  universal  as 
beautiful : 

"  Better  to  have  loved  and  lost, 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

Tt  is  easy,  or  it  would  :  for  those  who  kavi 


188  NEMESIS. 

learned  by  3  ears  of  enforced  abstemiousness,  a  negative  content 
witli  the  crusts  and  crumbs  of  aifection  that  fall  to  their  share,  to 
speak  contemptuously  of  the  "  mawkish  fancies,"  the  "  puling 
sentimentality  "  of  their  earlier  days.  Such  hearts  may  clap  their 
lean  hands  in  mirthless  laughter,  or  point  witheringly,  as  at 
children,  chasing  painted  bubbles,  when  the  young-  press  and 
strive  hotly  for  the  prize  that  hangs  "  highest  and  most  daz- 
zlingly  upon  the  horizon  "  of  each.  There  are  even  those-— sorrow- 
fully we  write  it — whose  agonized  prayer  in  their  own  spirit-need, 
the  loving  Father  heard  and  answered  bountifully,  who,  now, 
accustomed  to  the  luxury  of  full  hearts  and  happy  homes,  forget 
former  privations,  and  chide  with  wonderment,  instead  of  pitying 
the  expression  of  like  necessities  in  others.  There  is  a  heartless — 
we  would  fain  deem  it  a  thoughtless — otherwise,  it  is  a  base, 
unworthy  cant  on  this  subject,  affected  by  people  ia  middle  life, 
which  is  either  softened  by  the  approach  of  second  childhood,  or 
embittered  into  malignity  by  old  age.  "  Old  people  know  young 
people  to  be  fools."  "They  go  through  love-fits  along  with  the 
measles  and  whooping-cough."  "  Young  hearts  are  none  the 
worse  for  fifty  fractures."  "  It  is  only  a  turn  of  puppy-love, 
which  he  will  outgrow." 

-Such  are  the  elegant  and  humane  adages,  that  epitomize  the 
wisdom  of  the  sect.  0,  woe  !  woe  !  to  the  mother,  who,  serene 
in  a  happiness,  strengthened,  while  it  is  tempered  by  Time,  fails 
to  sympathize  with  the  crimsoned  cheek,  the  fluttering  heart,  the 
silent  tear,  that  betray  a  daughter's  initiation  into  the  lore,  which 
was  once  the  food  of  her  thoughts  through  anxious  nights  and 
flays  of  deep,  yet  troubled  joy.  Why  not  teach  our  children  that 
the  friendships  and  loves,  seen  rich  and  warm,  with  the  early 
summer  glow  upon  them,  are  but  the  foretaste  of  the  diviue,  all- 
pervading  sentiment,  which  God  would  have  His  immortal  crea- 
tures know  ?  Have  you  ever  thought — you,  who  hold  that  a  fit 
preparation  for  "  Lr'fe's  realities"  (a  term  hateful  as  trite!)  ia 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  189 

*  mastery  jf  tlio  judgment  over  the  heart  ;  a  thorough  subjuge- 
tbii  of  impetuosity  to  common  seusc  ;  an  unroofii,g  and  under 
mining  and  explosion  and  pulverization,  to  the  last  ii^om,  of  the 
ca.-tk-s,  which  children  and  youths  will  erect,  with  only  air  for 
.foundation  and  superstructure  ;  you,  who  would  drug  into  insen- 
sibility, the  generous  impulse  and  ardent  devotion  of  hearts, 
whose  veins  run  red,  fast,  young  blood,  as  the  Creator  wills  tins 

.11  ;  have  you  ever  thought,  we  ask,  of  the  meaning  of  that 
text,  "  If  a  man  love  not  his  brother,  whom  he  hath  seen,  how 
can  he  love  God,  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ?" 

How  shall  we,  in  the  Heaven  of  love,  practise  what  we  are 
making  it  the  study  of  our  lives  to  unlearn  ? 

Katheiine  Rashleigh  was  essentially  healthy  in  mind  and  body. 
Hers  was  a  brave,  buoyant  spirit,  that  would  have  laughed  to 
Bcorn  sickly  fancies  and  imaginary  woes.  And,  precisely  because 
it  was  found  and  strong,  it  craved  its  natural  food  and  rightful 
comparionship.  The  lark  remembers,  at  its  highest  flight,  its 
nest  in  the  grass,  and  the  eagle,  proud  voyager  of  the  empyrean, 
is  never,  from  choice,  a  ruateless  bird.  Circumstances,  not  her 
inclination,  had  ordained  that  this  girl,  with  a  large,  warm  heart, 
sympathies  ready  and  keen — should  never,  within  her  recollection, 
have  had  a  bosom  friend  ;  that  there  should  not  be,  for  her,  in 
the  world,  a  breast  upon  which  she  could  cast  herself  in  sudden 
joy  or  sorrow  ;  not  a  being  to  whom  she  could  say,  in  the  frank 
aeartiness  of  affection — "  I  love  you  !" 

She  had  indistinct  memories,  like  floating  dreams,  of  a  time 
when  their  household  atmosphere  was  different  from  what  it  now 
was  ;  heard,  hf  the  Past,  faint  echoes  of  fond  names  and  endear- 
ing phrases  be.-U>wed  upon  herself  ;  but  these  were  visions  that 
dissolved  into  mist,  when  she  would  have  examined  them  more 
nearly.  She  loved  the  father,  whose  sole  amusement  t;he  was. 
She  could  not  but  perceive  his  partiality  for,  and  pride  in  her,  and 
h*  seWom,  if  ever,  denied  her  expressed  wishes  if  their  objects 


190  NEMESIS. 

procurable  by  his  means.  But  lie  was  painfully  formal,  and  as 
regarded  feeling,  absolutely  undemonstrative.  Like  a  leadeu 
Saturn,  he  revolved  slowly,  bearing  his  satellites  along  hi  his  grey, 
sunless  orbit.  Mrs.  Holt  was  kind-hearted,  and  faithful  in  the 
performance  of  her  duty  to  her  pupil,  to  whom  years  of  association 
had  made  her  society  and  advice  indispensable  ;  but  there  was  no 
inherent  congeniality,  not  one  symptom  of  elective  affinity  between 
their  dispositions.  The  one  was  pedantic,  cautious,  and  a  devotee 
to  rule  and  custom  on  all  points,;  the  other,  a  genuine  democrat, 
claiming  liberty  of  thought,  language  and  act.  Many  zealous  and 
fruitless  attempts  had  Mrs.  Holt  made  to  reform,  according  to 
rectilinear  principles,  the  free  curves  of  a  character  that  gained 
her  aifection,  while  to  manage  it  baffled  her  skill.  Mrs.  Rashleigh 
had  been  an  invalid  from  her  daughter's  sixth  year  ;  never  very 
ill  ;  never  complaining,  yet  always  pale  aud  foeble,  and  the  cause 
of  solicitude  to  her  friends  and  compassion  among  her  acquaint- 
ances. Not  a  compassion  that  implied  a  failure  of  respect 
toward  its  object.  The  dignity,  approaching  to  severity,  that 
characterized  the  lady's  countenance  and  deportment,  the  sound 
judgment  and  strict  observation  manifest  in  whatever  she  said, 
inspired  a  feeling  akin  to  awe,  even  in  her  admirers. 

The  society  chosen  and  attracted  by  such  a  nucleus,  could  net 
be  extensive  or  brilliant.  To  the  young  daughter  it  was  stupid 
beyond  comparison,  and  she  gladly  welcomed  the  proposed  re- 
moval to  another  continent,  as  a  promise  of  a  more  eventful  and 
less  hackneyed  Life.  For  a  while,  the  novelty  and  excitement 
incident  to  the  change  of  •souutry,  had,  by  keeping  her  fancy  iu 
piay,  silenced  the  old,  homesick  yearning,  but  to-night  it  found 
her  off  her  guard,  and  resumed  possession. 

"  Everybody  besides  me  has  some  one  to  love,  and  by  whom  ha 
is  loved,"  she  said,  in  her  repining  heart.  "  That  haughty  mau 
I  saw  to-day  has  a  faithful  follower,  who  adores  him,  and  nobody 
erer  looks  at  me  as  he  did  at  her.  She  is  called  old  and  homely 


NEMESIS.  191 

and  poor  ;  I,  young,  pretty  and  wealthy;  yet  she  is  the  richer  of 
the  two.  And  that  lonely  sleeper  under  the  pines  !  Through 
the  heat  of  a  dozen  summers  and  the  cold  of  a  dozen  winters,  tha 
hand  of  love  has  tended  his  burial-place.  Who,  that  lives,  would 
weep  a  dozen  days  for  me  ?  Is  this  to  last  always  ?"  In  a 
petulant  despair,  she  struck  her  bosom  with  her  clenched  hand 
'•  Wiiy  cannot  I  kill  my  heart  and  seem — yes  1  be  like  those 
around  me  1" 

The  tree-tops  scarcely  moved  in  the  still  air  ;  yet  a  sound,  like 
the  distant  breath  of  the  wind  through  the  hall,  caught  her  ear 
It  was  repeated,  and,  with  a  tremor  she  could  not  explain,  she 
approached  the  door  and  listened.  It  came  once  more — a  moaa 
— a  shuddering  sigh,  that  was  human  in  its  tone  and  anguish.  Lest 
another  repetition  should  deprive  her  of  the  courage  to  seek  out 
its  origin,  she  stepped  noiselessly  into  the  long  corridor,  dark,  but 
for  a  glimmer  of  moonbeams  at  the  further  end,  and  a  streak  of 
light  under  the  door  next  her  own.  It  was  her  mother's  dressing- 
room,  and  when  after  a  second's  waiting,  she  traced  the  unusual 
sound  to  this,  filial  apprehension  supplanted  the  superstitious  dread 
that  had  begun  to  take  hold  of  her.  Hei  hesitating  tap  was 
unanswered,  and  she  opened  the  door. 

It  was  a  small  apartment,  adjoining  Mrs,  Rashleigh's  chamber, 
ana  uiaanv,  ainiost  meanly  fitted  np,  as  she  had  directed.  It  con- 
tained a  toiletrtabie,  a  couple  of  chairs  and  a  large,  blue  chest, 
bouim  with  iron,  and  bearing  the  marks  of  long  and  rough  usage 
The  top  of  this  was  raised,  and  Mrs.  Rashleigh  knelt  before  it, 
her  back  to  the  outer  entrance.  She  wore  her  night-dress,  and 
her  loosened  hair  rolled  in  gloomy  volumes  on  her  shoulders. 
Katherine  could  neither  see  her  face-  nor  the  contents  of  the  trunk ; 
only  that  the  crouching  figure  clasped  something — some  article  of 
apparel,  it  seemed — to  her  bosom,  and  wept  over  it  ;  the  plain- 
tive, heart-piercing  moan  that  had  reached  her  chamber.  All  this 
•yas  the  observation  of  an  instant  Xo  mortal  intrusion  was  per- 


192 

missible  in  such  a  sceue.     Katherine  had  stepped  back  into  tit 
passage,  and  was  drawing  the  door  softly  after  her,  when  tin  ' 
moaning  became  brokenly  articulate. 

"  My  husband  !     My  husband  1" 

Thi?  was  what  the  involuntary  listener  believed  that  she 
a*  she  left  the  weouor  alone  with  her  midnight  grief. 


¥  E  M  E  8  I  8 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LOMOKD  bad  its  quota  of  clerical  guests,  that  Saturday 
night.  It  was  near  the  church,  and  had  been  the  wayside  resting- 
place  of  their  profession  for  a  generation,  back.  Miss  Barbara's 
uotable  housewifery  secured  their  outward  comfort,  and  the 
society  of  the  present  master  was  more  to  the  taste  of  men  of 
their  intellectual  and  moral  stamp  than  his  father's  had  ever 
proved.  The  hospitable  host  at  table  ;  the  social  companion,  as 
they  sat  over  their  pipes  in  the  evening  ;  the  profound  thinker 
and  erudite  scholar  in  their  graver  conversation,  he  had  an  houor- 
able  place  in  the  estimation  of  each. 

Mr.  Laidley,  as  the  oldest  minister  present,  led  in  evening 
worship,  and  failed  not  to  commend  to  the  God  of  the  sainted 
mother,  the  son,  who  was  now  the  head  of  the  family,  and  to 
whom  the  church  she  loved,  looked,  with  eager  concern,  to  fulfill 
ber  wishes  in  behalf  of  this  portion  of  the  Lord's  vineyard. 

Malcolm  had  seen  the  last  of  the  company  to  his  chamber,  and 
was  moodily  pacing  the  grea\  drawing-room,  when  a  dry  cough 
announced  M.iss  Barbara. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  said  he,  checking  his  march. 

"  Thought,  maybe,  you  wanted  somethin' " 

"  Nothing,  I  thank  you." 

He  recommenced  his  walk. 

Mies  Barbara  snuffed  the  candles  ;  collected  the  pipes  into  the 
tobacco-box  ;  brushed  the  ashes  from  the  table,  and  pushed  the 
.chairs  into  order  against  the  wainscot. 

9 


NEMESIS. 

"  That  will  do,  I  think,"  said  Malcolm,  finally,  as  impatiently, 
as  he  ever  addressed  her. 

"  Ain't  you  tired  ?  Do  sit  down  !"  replied  she,  wheeling 
around  an  easy  chair. 

"  I  am  tired — and  that  is  why  I  prefer  walking." 

"  Jest  like  a  man  1  the  more  he  needs  comfort,  the  more  he 
won't  take  it  1" 

"  That  matters  little,  provided  he  does  not  interfere  with  the 
comfort  of  others,"  rejoined  Malcolm,  smiling  sadly.  "Do  I 
trouble  you,  Aunt  Bab  ?" 

"  You  do  that !  the  livelong  time  !"  she  broke  forth,  dropping 
into  a  chair,  and  heaving  a  deep  breath.  "  Night  and  day  ] 
night  and  day  I  and  all  my  prayer  is,  '  Lord  1  how  long  !  how 
long  !»» 

Malcolm  stopped  short,  and  gazed  at  her,  dumb  with  astonish' 
ment. 

"  And  to-night,  when  that  blessed  man  prayed  that  '  peace  and 
prosperity  might  abide  beneath  this  roof,'  I  could  hardly  keep 
from  cryin'  out,  '  Let  alone  the  prosperity,  if  so  be  the  Lord  will 
eend  the  master  peace  in  his  soul  and  rest  to  hia  heart  !' " 

"  I  am  grateful  for  your  prayers,  Aunt  Bab,"  said  Malcolm, 
gently.  "  If  they  do  not  avail  much  in  my  behalf,  they  will  bring 
down  blessings  upon  jour  head,  I  trust." 

Miss  Barbara  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  "  Jest  to  hear  him  ! 
wnen  the  greatest  blessin'  I  ask  upon  earth  is  to  have  my  child 
back  again.  Oh,  my  boy  !  my  boy  !"  the  tears  raining  down  her 
withered  cheeks  ;  "  I  know  you  have  had  trials  and  troubles. 
hard  to  be  borne.  Your  best  friends,  and  your  own  flesh  and 
blood  have  turned  against  you.  The  wicked  have  fou't  with  you, 
and  prevailed  ;  but  it  don't  excuse  you  in  the  sight  of  God,  for 
rejectiu'  His  love,  and  hatin'  your  fdlow-meu.  Let  me  say  ray 
Bay  1  It's  been  a-gatherin'  in  my  mind  for  years.  I  loved  yon 
when  you  \*  as  laid  in  my  arms — a 'teeny  baby.  So  proud  oru3  glaa 


N  E  H  [•:  6  1  8  .  195 

ire  was,  that  a  son  was  born.  If  I  could  ha'  looked  for'ard,  and 
Been  you  what  you  are  this  day,  I  would  ha'  bagged  the  Lord  to 
take  your  little  life  then — yes  1  and  thanked  Him,  if  He  had 
a-done  it.  Not  that  you  ain't  a  comfort  to  me — not  that  yon 
haven't  done  everythiu'  that  a  master,  without  religion  can  do, 
for  your  servants.  It's  your  duty  to  yourself  that  ain't  attended 
to.  Oh  I  when  I  remember  the  pretty  laughin'  boy — the  merry, 
handsome,  kind  young  man,  that  had  a  word  and  a  smile  for 
everybody,  and  that  everybody  loved — and  then  see  you  uowt 
old  before  your  time— cold  and  hard,  and  offish  to  your  old 
friends,  and  not  carin'  to  make  new  ones  ;  unforgivin'  to  them  as 
has  wronged  you,  and  never  askin'  the  Almighty  to  forgive  you 
and  grant  you  another  and  a  softer  heart — is  it  a  wonder  that 
my  faith  a'most  dies  out  ?" 

She  rocked  to  and  fro,  her  head  between  her  hands,  her  elbows 
on  her  knees  Malcolm's  features  underwent  a  variety  of  changes 
during  this  unprecedented  outflow  of  feeling.  Surprise  and  dis- 
pleasure at  her  boldness  subsided  into  pitying  affection,  as  he 
drew  near  and  leaned  on  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"You  have  surprised  me,  Aunt  Bab.  It  is  years  since  the 
matters,  to  which  you  refer,  were  mentioned  between  us.  It  wai 
my  wish  that  they  should  be  forgotten,  at  any  rate,  by  you." 

"  Why  not  by  you?"  asked  she,  raising  her  head. 

"  That  is  impossible." 

"  '  Forgive  and  forget '  is  the  right  rule." 

"  I  profess  to  do  neither  !" 

His  blood  was  rising.  He  strode  rapidly  through  the  room 
twice,  and  returned  to  her^ 

"  I  confess  that  I  am  the  harsh,  unlovable  being  you  hav« 
described.  I  shun  the  company  of  both  men  and  women  whom  I 
have  known  from  my  youth  up.  I  make  no  distinctions  between 
them  and  strangers.  And  why?  I  left  home,  the  trusting, 
happy  boj  ;  at  peace  with  the  world  and  those  of  my  own  blood 


196  NEMESIS. 

willing  tj  believe  al  uncharitable  thoughts  I  had  ever  indulged, 
unjust ;  ready  to  forgive  the  seeming  wrong  I  could  not  explain 
away.  Two  years  later,  I  came  home  to  find  that  father  aud 
sister  had  leagued  with  the  basest  of  tools,  to  destroy  an  inno- 
cent man,  to  whom  my  obligations  were  boundless  ;  a  pure,  noble 
spirit,  whose  only  crime  was  that  he  and  his  had  saved  my  life, 
and  that  I  loved  them  for  it  ;  to  learn  that  your  letters,  which 
would  have  apprised  me  of  the  villainous  plot,  had  been  inter' 
cepted.  My  father  declared,  on  his  death-bed,  that  this  was  done 
without  his  connivance.  Heaven  only  knows  the  truth  ;  but 
there  were  spies  upon  you,  and  who  could  they  have  been,  if  not 
the  inmates  of  this  very  house  !  Was  this  the  lesson  which  was 
to  teach  me  to  exercise  faith  hi  my  fellow-man  ? 

"You  cannot  have  forgotten  the  events  that  followed  upou 
this  discovery  ;  my  alienation  from  Eleanor  ;  my  defiance  of  my 
father  ;  the  prolonged  and  useless  search  for  the  wife  and  child  of 
the  murdered  man.  But  I  never  told  you  that  when  I  resigned 
the  hope  of  discovering  their  retreat ;  when  I  accepted  sullenly, 
the  conviction  that  the  poor  compensation  I  might  have  made 
them,  was  denied  me — I  swore  a  solemn  oath — '  The  Lord  do  so 
to  me,  and  more  also,  if  ever  I  forget  or  forgive  one  of  the 
accomplices  in  this  evil  deed  1'  In  one  instance,  and  one  alone, 
I  have  broken  this  vow.  My  father  implored  my  pardon  with  hia 
dying  breath,  and  I  could  not  withhold  it.  His  was  the  lesser 
crime  of  avarice.  I  wished  to  believe  his  assertion  that  he  was 
urged  to  the  cruelty  that  stained  his  name,  by  the  false  state- 
ments and  crafty  management  of  the  creature  who  had  become 
his  master.  For  the  rest — I  have  saicUit  \" 

"  '  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord/  "  uttered 
Miss  Barbara,  solemnly.  "  Who  gave  you  the  right  to  interfere 
in  His  affairs  ?" 

He  retorted  by  another  quotation,  said  to  himself,  rather  than 
to  her.  '"The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly.'  I  could  not 


NEMESIS.  1 97 

wait  You  have  not  mistaken  my  reputation  in  this  neighbor* 
nood,  where,  according  to  your  showing,  I  had  once  hosts  .01 
friends.  Because  I  wouM  not  blazon  abroad  the  shame  of  my 
kindred  ;  because  I  shrank  from  explanations  that  would  cover  • 
them  with  odium  ;  men  who  knew  me,  and  who  ought  to  hare 
known  him,  preferred  to  take  a  knave's  version  of  the  injurious 
suspicions  that  moved  me  to  seek  his  ruin.  Honorable  men 
reasoned  with  me,  when  I  ceased  all  pecuniary  and  friendly  deal- 
ings with  Sancroft,  and  when  I  resented  their  meddling  and 
exposed  him,  they  gave  him  double  the  business  I  had  withdrawn. 
They  went  further.  When  the  lying  son  of  an  unscrupulous 
father — the  wretch  who  should,  this  day,  be  serving  out  his  time 
in  the  penitentiary,  for  robbing  the  mail — when  this  plausible 
rascal  grew  ambitious,  and  applied  for  a  licence  to  teach  the 
laws  he  had  violated  ;  did  not  the  Seldens,  the  Logans — did  not 
my  own  brother-in-law  encourage  his  presumption  ?  Is  he  not 
rising  fast  in  his  profession,  and  a  guest  at  the  tables  where,  ten 
years  before,  he  would  not  have  dared  to  show  his  face  ?  This  is 
their  friendship  for  me  !  This  is  their  sense  of  right  and 
honesty  !" 

"  But  they  didn't  know  what  you  did  about  the  Bancrofts  !M 
argued  Miss  Barbara,  who  was  becoming  alarmed  by  the  storm 
ehe  had  raised. 

"  And  why  did  they  not  ?  I  never  concealed  my  reasons  for 
my  conduct.  "Was  Bancroft's  needless  cruelty  to  poor  Hale  a 
thing  done  in  a  corner  ?  My  father  publicly  declared,  again  and 
again,  that  his  agent  had  gone  beyond  his  orders  ;  that  he  was 
ignorant  of  Hale's  arrest,  until  he  heard  of  his  death.  Whose 
work  then — and  whose  only — was  the  miserable  outrage  that 
caused  a  stir  throughout  the  country  ?" 

Miss  Barbara  shook  her  head  mysteriously.  "  Sancroft  has  a 
gh'b  tongue,  and  if  Mr.  Argyle  talked,  he  and  his  son  talked  tou 
I  know  that  I" 


1 9»  NEMESIS. 

"Ami  my  father's  equals  and  associates  received  the  low-bred 
dog's  story,  before  they  would  the  word  of  a  gentleman  I  Just 
what  I  said,  a  while  ago  !  And,  by  so  doing,  they  have  arrayed 
themselves  against  me.  I  have  not  set  myself  against  them  !" 

"  They're  willin'  to  be  friendly,  I  am  sure.  I've  heard  it  said, 
vften,  how  much  infl'enee  you  have  with  them." 

"  How  much  influence  my  money  has,  you  mean.  It  is  easy 
for  them  to  overlook  my  lack  of  courtesy,  while  I  have  the  best 
plantation  and  most  money  out  on  interest  of  all  the  farmers  for 
cen  miles  around.  A  poor  man's  plain  speaking  would  be  recol- 
lected and  punished,  where  mine  is  passed  by,  as  'that  trifling 
difference  of  opinion,'  or,  '  little  eccentricity.'  Yes  1  you  were 
right !  where  I  once  counted  friends  by  the  score,  I  cannot,  to- 
night, point  to  one  1" 

las  proud  mouth  twitched,  and  he  turned  away  to  conceal  the 
weakness  he  had  disclaimed. 

Miss  Barbara  still  rocked  herself  on  her  chair,  and  groaned. 
"  'Taint  right,  my  dear  boy  !  It's  wrong  !  it's  awful  sinful  to  feel 
and  act  as  you  do,  no  matter  how  badly  they've  served  you." 

"  You  against  me,  too  1    I  had  not  expected  this,  Aunt  Bab  !" 

His  accent  of  mild  reproach  struck  like  a  knife  upon  the  faith- 
ful creature's  heart. 

"You  know  better!"  she  cried,  vehemently.  "I  would  lay 
down  my  life  for  you.  I  have  nothin'  else  to  love  and  take  care 
of.  Why  should  I  find  fault  with  you,  if  not  for  your  good  ? 
You  can't  say  I  aint  a  friend  1" 

She  planted  herself  in  his  path,  and  would  not  let  him  pass. 

"  You  ire  only  too  good — too  true,  for  such  an  unworthy 
fellow  1"  Le  said,  taking  her  hand,  and  smiling.  "  Yours  if 
the  only  love  I  have,  as  I  am  your  earthly  alL  We  will  not 
quarrel." 

Miss  Barbara  was  herself  again.  "  I  tell  you  what,  Malcolm 
Argyle,  you  ought  to  get  married  !  You  may  laugh  at  the  notios 


NEMESIS.  199 

much  as  you  like — bat  a  sensible,  loviii'  wife  would  make  a  ma* 
of  you." 

"  Thank  you  !"  be  Interrupted.  "  What  she  would  make  of 
you  is  a  subject  oi  more  interest  to  me.  Suppose  she  were  to  get 
jealous,  and  try  to  set  you  aside.  Don't  you  see  that  I  would 
have  to  get  a  divorce,  forthwith  ?  I  can't  live  without  you." 

He  could  not  beguile  her  into  a  jest.  "  I  am  gittiu'  old  ;  but 
I  would  sarve  her  so  well  that  she  couldn't  send  me  away.  Then, 
the  woman  you  ought  to  have  would  love  me  because  I  set  so 
much  store  by  you.  I  saw  you  talkiii'  to  Marcia  Selden,  that 
was,  to-day — didn't  I  ?" 

He  was  so  used  to  her  square  ways  that  the  question  did  not 
Btartle  him. 

"  You  saw  me  bow  to  her,  and  listen  to  a  little  of  her  talk 
with  Eleanor.  Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  You've  never  seen  her  before  since  she  married  Mr.  Carring 
ton — have  you  ?" 

"No." 

Miss  Barbara  groaned  again.     Malcolm  laughed  outright. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  I  was  thinkiu'  how  much  she  had  to  a,nswer  for.  She  was 
the  main  mischief-maker." 

"  Will  you  believe  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you,  Aunt  Bab  T' 

His  hand  was  pressed  upon  her  shoulder,  and  looking  up,  she 
saw  a  careless,  good-humored  light  in  his  blue  eyes,  that  reminded 
her  of  other  days. 

"  I  am  most  grateful  for  the  apparent  chance  that  has  forced 
upon  me  the  meeting  I  have  long  and  foolishly  avoided.  For  four 
years — an  age  in  a  boy's  life,  Aunt  Bab— I  carried  Maicia  Selden 
in  my  heart.  I  thought  of  her  ;  dreamed  of  her  ;  studied  for  hu 
while  I  was  abroad  ;  and  in  return  for  this  nonsensical  devotion 
to  a  very  common-place  girl,  who  liked  me  moderately  well,  and 
was  flattered  by  my  preference,  without  appreciating  one  milliontl 


200  NEMESIS. 

part  of  a  fraction  of  my  feeling  for  her,  I  got  a  cool  '  No,  I 
thank  you  !  Ma  and  I  think  I  had  better  marry  Stanhope  Car 
rington/  when  the  man  renewed  the  proposals  she  had  encour- 
aged in  the  boy.  It  almost  killed  me  1"  He  shuddered  at  the 
recollection.  "  But  worse  than  the  first  stab  and  shock,  was  the 
period  of  longing  and  suffering  that  racked  me  into  insensibility  " 

He  was  soliloquizing — looking  over  her  head  into  vacancy,  and 
his  grip  upon  her  shoulder  was  tighter. 

"  What  I  endured  in  obstinate  silence,  I  cannot  relate.  It  is 
over  !  Long  ago,  I  learned  to  thank  her  for  having  taught  me 
the  worth  of  woman,  as  Bancroft  and  his  crew  had  given  me  the 
average  measure  of  manhood." 

"  I  don't  understand  more'n  half  of  what  you  say  !"  objected 
Miss  Barbara,  making  a  wry  face,  and  rubbing  her  shoulder. 
"  Do  you  mean  that  you  judge  all  women  by  Marcia  Selden,  and 
are  obliged  to  her  for  not  marrying  of  you  ?" 

"  You  have  hit  it — exactly  1" 

"  And  don't  feel  any  grudge  against  her  for  jiltin'  of  you  ?" 

"Not  one  iota — that  is — not  a  mite  1     You  don't  believe  it ?'" 

"  I  don't  1"  said  she,  positively.  "  Why  didn't  you  shako 
hands  with  her  this  mornin'  ?" 

"  Because  I  have  no  respect  for  her,  and  wanted  her  to  under- 
stand this.  Now,  that  she  has  had  her  instruction,  I  have  no 
objection  to  meeting  her  in  a  friendly  manner." 

"  What  made  you  stand  by,  while  she  was  talkin'  to  Elc&nor  ? 
Honor  bright,  Malcolm  1  Didn't  the  sound  of  her  voice  make 
you  feel  all-overish-like  ?"  s 

"  No  1"  laughing  heartily.  "  The  only  qualm  I  had  waa  at 
the  thought  that  I  had  ever  been  such  a  fool  as  to  worship  the 
ordinary-looking,  bedizened  woman,  who  was  deluging  Eleanor 
with  that  wishy-washy  stream  of  twaddle  about  her  babies  and 
Mr.  Carrington  and  the  servants,  and  '  Ma.'  When  did  you 
study  the  symptoms  of  the  tender  passion  ?  You  catechize  lib 


NEMESIS.  201 

a  professor  of  the  science.  Has  old  Slocum  been  up  tins  waj 
again  lately  ?  I  thought  you  sent  him  off  with  a  flea  iu  his  ear, 
ages  since." 

"  Poor  Slocum  !  He  never  was  overly  smart ;  but  he's  a  good 
soul  1"  sighed  Miss  Barbara.  "  I  for  one,  shall  always  remem- 
ber him  for  his  kindness  to  the  Hales.  They  say  he  cried  right 
out  like  a  baby,  when  we  got  back  from  over  the  mountains,  and 
he  heard  how  poor  dear  Mark  had  died  while  we  was  away. 
And  that  reminds  me" — she  spoke  quickly  to  avert  the  cloud 
gathering  over  Malcolm's  face — "  Did  you  ever  see  a  better  like- 
ness of  Bessy  Hale,  than  that  ere  English  girl  that  was  with 
your  sister  at  church  to-day  ?" 

"  I  did  not  notice  the  resemblance." 

"  I  don't  see  where  your  eyes  was,  I  couldn't  keep  mine  vfl 
of  her,  all  the  time  "we  was  at  the  table.     Maybe,  she's  some  Kin. 
came  of  Irish  stock.     England  and  Ireland's  j'iniu' — aiut 
they  ?" 

Malcolm  suppressed  his  amusement  at  the  f?r-fetched  supposi- 
tion. 

"  Xot  quite  adjoining.  There  is  a  sea  beta  ecu  them.  More- 
over, Miss  Rashleigh  belongs  to  a  wealthy  oM  English  family, 
and  our  poor  Bessy  was  a  Yankee  shoemaker's  wife.  Good  nighty 
Aunt  Bab.  Don't  fret  your  righteous  soul  ove/  my  shortcomings. 
If  I  am  an  iceberg  to  other  people,  it  is  because  I  cannot  help  it, 
and  neither  can  I  help  loving  and  trusting  in  you." 

He  would  not  have  owned  it,  yet  this  strange  exchange  of 
confidences  was  beneficial  to  him.  It  drained  hfc»  mind  of  certain 
pestilential  pools — black  with  the  refuse  of  the  past,  that  con- 
tributed liberally  of  their  noxious  gases  to  prison  the  air,  iu 
which  he  thought  and  felt.  The  encounter  with  bis  boyish  flame 
conduced  to  a  like  result.  Miss  Barbara's  homely  wisdom  *as  a 
relief  to  mental  optics  that  were  ever  scanning  and  criticising  the 
-1  aud  crookvd  ideas  and  jmutios  <'f  his  fclldAc  ;  and  'HI 


202  NEMESIS. 

honest  affection  cheered  a  heart  as  dry  as  dust,  for  want  of  the  dew 
and  rain  he  perversely  excluded.  The  companionship  of  his 
present  visitors  was  not  likely  to  lessen  the  humanizing  effect  of 
these  influences  ;  nor  were  the  services  of  the  two  succeeding  days. 

Certain  it  was,  that  when  on  Tuesday  morning,  having  shaken 
hands  with  his  venerable  friend  Mr.  Laidley,  who  had  liugcml 
latest  of  the  brethren,  he  saw  from  his  front  porch,  Eleanors 
husband  ride  into  the  lower  gate,  he  neither  frowned  nor  ex- 
claimed at  the  anticipated  visit,  and  actually  walked  part  of  the 
way  down  the  yard  to  meet  him. 

Now,  neither  of  these  gentlemen  was  quite  carried  away  by  his 
admiration  of  the  other,  and  their  interviews  were  as  few  and  aa 
brief  as  was  consistent  with  the  desire  of  the  Moreaus  to  maintain 
outwardly  amicable  relations  with  their  wealthy  and  childless 
brother.  Malcolm  entertained  a  sincere,  if  unavowed  contempt 
for  his  sister's  choice,  and  although  distant  to  all  his  connec- 
tions, whether  by  consanguinity  or  marriage,  showed  a  decided 
preference  for  Jessie's  husband — a  rollicking,  well-meaning,  well- 
to-do  squire,  in  an  adjacent  county.  Mr.  Moreau  was  a  dashing 
young  fellow  when  Eleanor  fell  in  love  with  him  ;  an  accomplished 
sportsman,  rider,  and  dancer  ;  plentifully  gifted  with  gallantry  of 
the  French  school,  and,  as  might  have  been  expected,  the  petted 
toast  of  the  fair  sex.  Eleanor  Argyle's  beauty  and  perhaps  her 
prospective  length  of  purse,  had  won  him  for  her,  amidst  the 
envious  sighs  of  her  compeers,  and  very  exultant  was  the  ah*  with 
which  she  bore  off  her  prize.  If  she  discovered,  upon  closer  and 
calmer  inspection,  that  she  had  wedded  a  man  inferior  to  herself 
in  mental  endowments,  and  loss  refined  in  taste  ;  that  the  splen< 
did  physique  was  a  specious  blind  to  the  interior  poverty,  she  had 
too  high  a  spirit  to  admit  outsiders  to  the  secret  of  her  discomfi* 
ture.  She  ruled  him  as  she  would  have  done  any  one  she  had 
married,  whose  lore  of  her  or  of  peace  restrained  him  from 
declared  warfare  with  his  female  Hotspur.  They  made  an  edifying 


NEMESIS.  203 

of  conjugal  felicity  abroad,  and  there  is  reason  tu  bcliey« 
tiiat  she  was  really  extremely  fond  of  him — the  more  so,  that  ho 
granted  her  what  she  loved  yet  more  dearly — her  own  way.  He 
was  undeniably  attached  to  her  ;  lauded  her  attainments  and 
person  as  freely  as  propriety  allowed,  and  with  all  his  penchant 
for  flirtation  and  fine  girls,  never  waited  on  a  pretty  or 
tipritrhtly  woman  without  his  wile's  permission  ;  i.  e.,  when  there 
was  any  danger  that  she  would  hear  of  it. 

The  chief  reason  which  Mr.  Moreau  had  for  shunning  Malcolm, 
was- a  rankling  grudge  he  owed  him,  because  of  the  feud  between 
the  brother  and  sister,  which,  at  one  time,  immediately  after 
Malcolm's  return  from  Europe  and  the  developments  incident 
thereupon,  had  arisen  to  a  deadly  pitch,  appearing  likely  to  sever 
them  for  a  lifetime.  The  hollow  truce  concluded  at  their  father's 

• 

grave,  ten  years  before,  was  well  understood  on  both  sides,  as  a 
mere  form.  It  was  designed  by  Malcolm,  as  a  tribute  of  respect 
to  the  departed  ;  a  sacrifice  of  fierce  passions  to  his  memory  ; 
by  Eleanor,  as  a  mask  for  the  world  to  look  upon,  and  the  first 
plank  toward  bridging  the  chasm,  dividing  herself  and  probable 
heirs  from  the  bulk  of  the  father's  property,  which  was  willed  to 
the  son.  With  the  children,  came  more  definite  and  intense 
covetousness  of  the  rich  domain.  She  tutored  all  her  subjects, 
including  her  husband,  even  her  own  haughty  neck,  to  bow  before 
him  who  was  to  make  or  mar  their  fortunes.  The  frequent 
prophecies  of  his  marriage  she  scouted  disdainfully.  She  had 
sufficient  perception  of  his  far  nobler  nature,  to  enter  into  the 
mystery  of  his  misanthropical  seclusion,  his  cold  cynicism  to  her 
sex,  and  was  not  rashly  confident  in  her  persuasion  that  he  would 
die,  as  he  had  lived — a  bachelor.  One  of  her  darling  objects  waff 
gained  when  people  began  to  think  and  speak  of  the  little  Mai- 
volm  Muroau  as  the  heir  presumptive  of  Ben  Lomond,  and  her 

ii>  well    as   her  maternal    pride  was   gratified   at    th< 

court  paid  her  in  consilience. 


204  NEMESIS. 

Malcolm  had  no  acquaintance  who  would  venture  upon  a  hint 
of  this  to  him  ;  but  Miss  Barbara  heard  of  it,  and  a  great  many 
other  things  of  a  like  kind,  that  galled  her  sorely.  She  was  con- 
scientiously opposed  to  adding  a  breath  toward  rekindling  the 
smouldering  brands  of  family  discord.  With  all  Eleanor's  faults, 
she  was  her  mother's  child  ;  the  first-born  babe — and  had  opened 
her  eyes  to  the  light  in  the  old  nurse's  arms — a  memory,  that 
well  nigh  blotted  out  the  most  shameful  passages  of  her  ufter-life. 
Still,  Miss  Barbara  was  not  willing  that  the  sister's  offspring 
should  rule  in  thft  stead  of  "  her  boy,"  when  he  should  sleep  with 
his  fathers.  If  not  a  model  of  a  perfect  man  in  her  esteem,  she 
loved  him  for  his  very  imperfections,  and  believed  him  entitled  to  the 
best  lady  in  the  land,  and  she  could  not  blind  herself  to  the  fact, 
that  if  Ben  Lomoml  did  not  need  a  mistress,  a  wife  of  the  right 
sort  would  be  its  master's  temporal  salvation.  Jlenco,  her  bold 
declaration  to  this  effect  on  Saturday  night,  which,  had  Eleanor 
heard,  her  rage  would  scarcely  have  stopped  short  of  private 
assassination. 

Yet  the  marriage,  at  once  so  desired  and  so  deprecated,  would 
have  seemed  a  most  proper  and  probable  event  to  one  who 
watched  Malcolm,  as  he  strode  down  the  walk  to  salute  the  com- 
ing guest.  His  curls,  embrowned  by  the  passing  years,  were 
uncovered  and  stirred  in  the  morning  air.  His  eye  had  the  clear 
blue  of  his  boyhood,  with  a  steadier  and  more  penetrating  look, 
and  his  broad  shoulders,  deep  chest  and  athletic  limbs  made  up  a 
picture  of  true  manliness,  strength  and  grace,  that  might  secure 
him  favor  in  the  eyes  of  women,  were  he  fifty,  instead  of  thirty 
years  old. 

"  You  are  looking  very  well  1"  said  Mr.  Moreau,  assuming  au 
ease  he  was  far  from  feeling  ;  as  children  whistle  in  the  dark  ta 
prevent  themselves  from  hearing  goblin  footsteps  behind  them. 
"  How  do  you  manage  to  keep  so  young  ?  There  can't  be  iimct 
difference  in  our  ages." 


NEMESIS.        . 

"  I  am  thii  ty,"  said  Malcolm,  gravely. 

"  And  I  thirty-five.  A  stranger  w  suld  dec  are  that  I  was  ten 
f  enrs  the  older  of  the  two.  D'ye  see  the  grey  hairs  ?'*  raising  the 
locks  above  his  ears.  % 

"  I  see  some,  certainly,"  rejoined  the  other. 

It  occurred  to  him  then,  that  Moreau  had  grown  old  within  a 
twelvemonth  past.  It  was  all  of  that  time  since  he  had  taken  the 
pains  to  notice  him  particularly.  There  were  incipient  crows'-feet 
and  hollowing  of  cheeks  and  eyes,  that  bore  out  the  testimony  of 
the  white  hairs.  Malcolm  had  never  thought  him  a  man  who  was 
likely  to  take  trouble  heavily  ;  yet  he  could  have  been  sure  that 
he  had  known  cares,  and  grievous  ones,  lately  ;  that  he  could  not 
shake  them  off  now. 

"  And  what  marvel  ?"  he  thought.  "  Nothing  Out  india-rub 
ber,  and  a  French  article  at  that,  would  have  retained  any  elasti- 
city after  eleven  years  with  Eleanor.  What  ails  you,  Moreau  ?* 
he  asked,  unthinkingly,  and  almost  kindly. 

Mr.  Moreau  changed  color,  perhaps  with  surprise. 

"  Nothing  1  Nothing  1"  answered  he,  flurriedly.  "  Time  and 
responsibility,  I  suppose.  You  must  not  forget  that  we  married 
men  have  more  on  our  hands  and  brains  and  hearts,  too,  than  you 
happy  dogs  of  bachelors." 

They  had  reached  the  dining-room,  and  Malcolm  invited  hig 
brother-in-law  to  the  sideboard.  Mr.  Moreau  selected  brandy  and 
water.  In  handing  him  the  decanter,  Malcolm  detected  the  odor 
of  prior  and  copious  potations,  and  observed  that  he  could  not 
pcur  out  the  liquor  steadily.  He  mixed  it  strong  and  sweet,  and 
swallowed  it,  thirstily. 

"  You  don't  drink  yourself  !"  he  said,  as  his  host  turned  from 
the  beaufet  with  him. 

"  Sometimes  I  do  ;  not  very  often." 

"  It  is  a  sin  for  a  man  to  keep  such  liquors  and  not  enjo) 
'.ht-ui/'  continued  Mr.  Moreau,  glancing  regretful!}  at  the  oiijptj 


206  NEMESIS. 

glass.  "  I  wish  I  could  afford  to  do  it.  What  terrible  times  these 
are  1  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  am  not  tempted  to  believe  that  old  King 
George — tyrant  and  fool  'though  he  was — was  a  better  master 
than  the  mob  that  is  king  over  us  now.  The  government  is  like 
a  hound — puppy — barking  '  War,  war  I'  with  all  its  might,  and 
backing  as  fast  as  it  barks  The  country  is  on  the  brink  of  bank. 
ruptcy." 

"  The  darkest  hour  is  just  before  the  day,"  said  Malcolm,  care- 
lessly. "  But  I  am  no  politician." 

"  Nor  I ;  but  how  can  a  man,  with  one  grain  of  patriotism, 
repress  his  indignation  at  the  unnecessary  ruin  that  impends  above 
his  native  laud  ?  The  proclamation  that  declarers  war  with  Great 
Britain,  seals  the  doom  of  the  United  States  as  a  nation.  Don't 
you  think  so  ?" 

The  query  was  put  doubtfully,  for  the  sarcastic  curl  of  Mal- 
colm's lip  slightly  damped  the  fire  of  patriotism  and  brandy. 

"  I  think  that  you  have  been  to  hear  one  of  Jack  Randolph's 
blood-and-fury  speeches,  and  that  he  has  converted  you  to  the 
peace  principles  he  would  maintain  by  force  of  arms  if  he  had  his 
will.  A  novel  style  of  preventing  aggressive  warfare  upofi 
foreign  powers,  is  this  fomenting  civil  dissensions  !  Fie,  man  1 
where  is  your  love  for  the  land  of  your  fathers  ?  How  do  yon 
stomach  the  red-hot  abuse  of  France  and  everything  French,  with 
which  Randolph  pelts  the  crowd  ?  What  do  you  do  with  your 
affection  for  the  home  of  your  forefathers  ?" 

Mr.  Moreau  tumbled  off  his  stilts. 

"  Oh,  well  1"  he  said,  looking  foolish.  "  I  am  half  English, 
you  recollect,  and  American  by  birth  and  residence.  By  the  way 
have  you  met  my  uncle,  Colonel  Rashleigh  ?" 

"  I  was  introduced  to  him  on  court-day." 

"  He  is  a  first-rate  specimen  of  the  fine  old  English  gentleman, 
ind  has  a  lovely  family.  You  will  call,  I  hope." 

"Thank  you.     I  rarely  pay  visits,  unless  on  business." 


JT  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  207 

"  Elcauor  intends  giving  a  party  next  week  to  introduce  them 
to  the  neighbors  You  have  received  your  invitation,  I  suppose  ?* 

"I  ll; 

Mr.  Moreau  was  nervous  in  nearing  the  point. 

"  She  asked  me  to  ride  by,  this  morning,  and  press  yjn  to 
come.  They  are  my  relations,  and  she  is  anxious  to  have  them 
on  terms  of  social  intercourse  with  hers.  Jessie  and  Hunter  will 
be  over,  if  Jessie's  baby  can  bear  the  jaunt.  It  will  be  a  pleas- 
ant family  gathering,  you  see." 

Malcolm  was  silent  ;  the  expression  ^f  his  countenance  uuequi 
Tocal  as  to  his  opinion  concerning  the  delights  of  the  aforesaid 
re-union. 

"  You  will  be  charmed  with  the  Colonel,"  floundered  poor 
Morcau. 

His  brother-in-law's  resemblance  to  his  queen-wife  was  alarm- 
ingly apparent,  when  he  "put  on  his  high  looks,"  and  he  had 
cause  to  dread  the  sign.  The  cowed  aspect  of  the  man  nearly 
provoked  Malcolm's  risibles  ;  but  excited  his  compassion  also. 

"  After  all,"  he  reasoned,  "  It  is  a  trifle,  and  my  going  will 
please  Bab.  It  is  a  bore,  though,"  said  second  or  third  thought  ; 
"  and  I  will  guard  my  acceptance.  I  have  not  been  to  a  party 
this  great  while,  Moreau,"  he  said,  alond.  And  as  he  realized 
what  he  was  about  to  do,  he  swallowed  hi  advance,  a  yawn  of 
desperate  weariness.  "  But,  as  Jessie  is  to  be  there,  and  it  Is  my 
duty  to  do  the  hospitable  thing,  by  your  relatives,  I'll  think  the 
matter  over,  and  let  you  know  my  decision  before  the  eventful 
evening." 

Mr.  M«reau  was  entranced.  A  polite,  stiff  negative,  it  w;i.-: 
hi*  expectation  to  bear  back  to  his  empress.  In  the  excitement 
of  the  moment,  he  arose,  and  poured  out  another  bumper. 

"  The  fellow  has  a  stronger  head  than  I  thought,  if  he  can 
stand  that,  added  to  what  has  gone  before,"  thought  Malcolm 


£08  NEMESIS. 

Mr.  Mureau  lost  no  time  in  disproving  the  transient  suspicion 
that  he  had  a  stable  brain.  Owing  to  circumstances  we  will  not 
pause  to  narrate  just  here,  he  had  been  impelled  to  resort  to  an 
extraordinary  quantity  of  stimulus  that  morning.  Drink  deeply, 
be  could  and  did,  with  impunity,  daily  ;  but,  as  we  have  hinted, 
the  interior  of  his  cranium  was  not  proof  against  a  very  heavy 
assault  of  any  description  of  spirits. 

"  Suppose  we  sit  in  the  porch  ?"  suggested  Malcolm,  rising. 
"  The  house  feels  close  on  this  breezy  morning." 

Moreau's  eye  said,  "  adieu,"  to  the  decanter,  and  he  followed. 

"  The  tobacco-box  and  pipes,  Tony  !"  ordered  Mr.  Argyle,  to 
his  body-servant.  "  A  pitcher  of  cool  water  and  glasses  1" 

The  porch  was  a  charming  summer  parlor,  festooned  by  vines, 
and  supplied  with  comfortable  benches.  Tony,  grown  into  a 
smart,  intelligent  young  "  gentleman  of  color,"  brought  out  a 
stand  from  the  hall^  and  disposed  the  required  articles  upon  it, 
with  a  dexterity  that  told  how  familiar  the  office  was. 

Mr.  Moreau  nodded  to  his  respectful  bow. 

"  A  likely  boy  I"  he  remarked,  when  he  was  beyood  hearing. 
"  Hang  it,  Argyle  !  you  don't  begin  to  feel  what  a  lucky  star 
yours  is  1  Everything  that  calls  you  '  master,'  thrives  Your 
crops  never  fail ;  your  cattle  never  have  the  distemper,  or  any 
other  ailing  that  I  hear  of,  and  your  servants  fly  if  you  look  at 
them.  Yet  you  have  the  name  of  being  a  kind  manager.  Do 
you  keep  an  overseer  this  year  ?" 

"  I  have  not  had  one  since  Frisbie  went  West,  five  years  since, 
My  colored  man,  William,  is  the  overlooker  in  the  field.  I  do 
not  approve  of  sub-masters  on  a  plantation." 

"  They  are  a  pest !  but  I  cannot  get  along  without  one.  Thero 
is  that  fellow,  Sncad,  cheating  me  out  of  my  eye-teeth,  and  gei> 
ting  rich  himself — the  rascal !  Yet,  what  can  I  do  ?  I  am  ready 
sometimes  to  blow  my  brains  out.  'Pon  my  soul,  I  am  !" 

"  Better  discharge  the  overseer,"  paid  Malcolm,  composedly 


NEMESIS. 

"  And  Lire  another  as  bad,  or  worse  !     The  truth  is   A 
it  is  a  riddle  to  me  how  I  am  to  make  both  ends  meet  this  year 
We  have  studied  economy  till  we  are  absolutely  pinching  our- 
se!v> 

;'  And  giving  large  parties,"  thought  the  cooler  head  of  hid 
listener. 

"  Only  last  week,  I  sold  a  horse  that  his  weight  iu  gold  would 
not  have  induced  me  to  part  with,  six  months  ago,  and  Eleanor 
has  not  bought  a  new  dress  for  I  don't  know  when." 

"  I  dare  say  you  do  not !"  commented  the  uncharitable  brother, 
to  himself. 

"  But  it  is  no  use  !  I  shall  be  only  another  victim  to  the 
times,  and  the  stupidity,  or  something  worse,  of  the  precious 
rulers  of  this  glorious  and  prosperous  Republic.  If  it  were  not 
for  my  wife  and  babies,  I  would  not  care  how  soon  I  went  by  the 
board." 

A  real  tear  trickled  down  his  cheek,  hidden  the  next  instant 
by  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

"  Melancholy  drunk  !"  decided  Malcolm  knocking  out  the 
ashes  from  his  pipe  over  the  porch  railing. 

The  impatient  action  bruised  and  snapped  a  tender  spray  of 
the  hop-vine  that  formed  part  of  the  verdant  curtain  The  power- 
ful odor — mingled  sweet  and  bitter — floated  past  Malcolm,  on 
the  warm  air,  and  bore  his  fancy  back  to  other  days  and  pictures. 
The  early  and  humble  friends,  whose  tragic  fate  had  cast  such  a 
shadow  over  his  existence ;  the  vine-draped  cottage  ;  Mark's 
cheery  face  and  tone  ;  Bessie's  lithe  form  and  pleasant  smile,  as 
Bhe  hovered  around  his  couch  ;  little  Kitty's  touch  on  his  hands 
and  brow  ;  her  sunny  curls  brushing  his,  as  she  prattled  from  the 
fullness  of  her  loving  heart — dear,  dear  little  Kitty  !  whi.-re  waa 
she  now?  His  mouth  relaxed  ;  his  eyes  were  no  longer  cold  and 
bright,  as  these  memories  rolled  over  him.  It  wa.$  a  willful  freak 
?f  imagination,  and  took  his  heai\  unawares.  There  was,  fo» 


210  NEMESIS. 

the  time,  no  intermixture  or  afterthought  of  revenge  against  thos< 
who  had  wrought  the  ruin  of  the  happy  home,  so  truly  remem- 
bered. Instead,  ensued  a  disposition  to  pity  and  succor  the  sor- 
rowing, from  whatever  causio  the  affliction  might  proceed.  He 
was  subject  to  these  fits  of  softening,  although  no  one,  except 
Miss  Barbara,  knew  it. 

At  this  auspicuous  conjuncture  of  memory  and  feeling,  Mr. 
Moreau's  plaining  again  reached  his  senses. 

"  I  abominate  debt,  and  I  have  chafed  under  this  until  I  am 
worn  out.  If  I  cannot  raise  the  money,  I  cannot.  In  these 
times,  everything  sells  at  a  ruinous  sacrifice  ;  but  honor  is  dearer 
than  money,  and  sell  I  will — if  it  takes  everything  I  have  to 
cover  the  claim." 

"  How  much  is  it  ?" 

Malcolm's  accent  was  propitious.  Mr.  Moreau  congratulated 
himself  upon  his  eloquence.  He  had  an  indistinct  idea  of  having 
read  at  school  of  a  man  whose  oratory  by  the  sea-side  brought 
the  fish  in  enraptured  crowds  to  the  beach.  In  his  tipsy  medi- 
tations, he  pronounced  himself  a  greater  magician,  in  that  he  had 
dispelled  the  oyster-like  reserve  of  the  man  who  kept  the  rest  of 
tL-i  world  at  bay. 

Oh,  Eleanor  Moreau  !  if  you  could  have  seen  the  presumptuous 
germs  sprouting  in  the  soil  of  a  mind  whose  tillage  you  claimed  as 
yojr  monopoly  ;  could  have  known  of  his  temerity  in  risking  your 
childreus'  hoped-for  inheritance  upon  a  die  of  his  own  casting  I 

She  was  not  at  hand  to  avert  consequences,  good  or  bad— and 
Mr.  Moreau,  having  conceived  the  idea  of  perverting  his  powers 
as  his  wife's  plenipotentiary,  to  his  personal  and  private  advantage, 
pushed  on  to  the  issue. 

"  If  I  could  get  reliable  security,"  he  said,  quite  artlessly. 
"  Capital  tobacco  this  I  I  would  recognize  it  for  yours,  any- 
where. Such  a  name  as  Logan's  or  yours,  for  instance — but, 
bl  vss  you  !  Logan  is  as  ciose  as  wax,  and  you  might  not  consi 


N  E  M  K  8  I  8  211 

der  a  deed  of  trust  upon  any  part  of  my  property  you  choose  iff 
select,  sufficient  to  warrant  you  in  " 

Malcolm  seemed  to  awake  from  a  dream 

"  I  never  go  security  for  ai  y  one  1"  he  said,  so  brusquely,  that 
Mr.  Moreau  leaped  from  his  chair,  and  the  pipe  slipped  from  hi* 
fingers,  "What  sum  do  you  want  ?" 

"  Well — but  indeed,  I  had  no  intentions — I  did  not  design  a 
hint" *- 

"  What  is  the  amount  of  this  debt  ?" 

Mr.  Moreau  had  wit  enough  left  to  name  a  sum  exceeding  his 
real  need.  "  If  he  is  disposed  to  be  liberal,  a  figure  or  two  more 
won't  stop  him  1"  whispered  low  cunning. 

"  So  much  1"  exclaimed  Malcolm,  with  a  searching  gaze,  that 
frightened  the  blood  to  the  liar's  heart."  "  You  have  been  unfortu- 
nate indeed — very  unlucky !"  laying  a  stress  upon  the  last  word, 
that,  coupled  with  his  keen  eye,  made  Mr.  Moreau  fidget  in  deadly 
trepidation,  lest  he  had  spoiled  all,  or  that  the  hermitage  of  hi.« 
brother-in-law  had  not  been  proof  against  certain  reports  of 
busybodies,  touching  the  manner  of  his  losses.  Malcolm  was 
buried  in  thought  for  some  minutes,  his  compressed  lips  and  knit 
brows,  replete  with  evil  augury  to  the  quaking  petitioner. 

"  And  this,  you  wish  me  to  lend  you  ?" 

"  My  dear  Argyle  !  did  I  say  that  ?" 

"  You  meant  it  1  Your  property  will  he  sacrificed  unless  you 
receive  immediate  assistance  ?" 

Mr.  Moreau  sighed  dolorously,  "  Even  so." 

"  You  will  give  your  bond  in  return  ?" 

" Assuredly  !  most  certainly  I"  recovering  spirit.  "It  is  a 
temporary  embarrassment,  the  fault  of  the  times,  altogether,  yoi 
gee.  Blame  Madison,  and  all  his  backers,  I  say  1" 

Malcolm  went  into  the  house,  and  presently  returned  witk  a 
paper,  yet  wet  from  the  pen. 

"  The  money  is  in  bank.     Send  to  Kichmond  and  get  it  I" 


2  NEMESIS. 

"  My  dearest  brother  1"  cried  Moreau,  jumping  up  and  grasp 
iiig  his  hand,  fairly  beside  himself  with  delighted  astonishment. 

"  Your  bond,  if  you  please  1"  interposed  the  creditor. 

It  was  illegibly  made  out,  owing  to  liquor  or  the  flutter  of 
pleasure  he  was  in,  and  then  Mr.  Moreau  broke  forth  again  will 
his  ecstatic  gratitude.  Malcolm  brought  him  up  this  tune,  at 
the  second  word. 

"  I  can  dispense  with  thanks,"  said  he,  every  syllable  a  pellet 
of  ice,  falling  slowly  and  severely  upon  the  appalled  auditor. 
"  Your  wife  is  cognizant  of  your  distressed  circumstances,  and 
your  appeal  to  my  generosity,  I  presume." 

"  Yes  I  yes  !"  chattered  Mr.  Moreau's  teeth. 

He  hardly  knew  what  he  said  or  thought  further  than  the  over 
whelming  impression  that  his  wife's  brother  was  a  most  uncomfor- 
table man,  and  that  the  worst  was  still  ahead  of  him.  He  was 
not  deceived. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it  1  She  is  a  woman  to  feel  keenly  a  strait 
of  this  sort." 

"  She  does,  sir  !  she  does  !  She  cried,  all  last  night  about  it, 
and  was  nearly  distracted  when  I  left  her  this  morning." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it!"  said  Malcolm,  in  the  same  incom- 
prehensible tone,  "  I  have  a  message  to  send  her.  Please  say  — 
or  no  !  I  will  write  it.  Excuse  me  a  moment  I" 

He  handed  him  a  sealed  note,  when  he  came  out  again. 

"  With  my  respects  and  sympathies,"  he  said,  smiling  sardoni- 


"  And  you  will  be  over  to  the  party  ?" 

"  Not  unless  I  change  my  mind  1"  was  the  unexpected  response. 

But  as  he  looked  neither  angry  nor  scornful,  Mr.  Moreau'a 
scanty  residue  of  sense  concluded  that  he  was  "  only  joking,"  and 
he  laugned  in  saying,  "  Good  morning." 

Malcolm  saw  him  ride  down  the  lane,  with  bitter  contempt  io 
eye  and  heart. 


N  E  M  F  S  I  8  .  213 

"  What  brought  that  here  ?"  snapped  Miss  Barbara,  whose 
cariosity  had  been  crucifying  her  from  the  Jistant  of  Mr.  Moreatrs 
arrival. 

Instead  of  answering  her  question,  Malcolm  laughed  harshly 
through  his  shut  teeth. 

"  You  told  me  once,  Aunt  Bab,  by  way  of  reconciling  me  to 
the  beauties  of  human  nature,  that  all  men  were  not  Bancrofts, 
You  were  right ;  but  I  believe  I  had  rather  deal  with  a  snake 
than  a  toad  I" 

Mr.  Moreau  was  within  the  bounds  of  his  own  plantation 
before  the  brilliant  thought  occurred  to  him  that  the  note  he  car- 
ried might  refer  to  the  private  transaction  between  himself  and 
Malcolm,  and  not  to  Eleanor's  invitation.  The  cold  sweat  oozed 
through  his  pores  at  the  frightful  probability.  Instinctively, 
he  checked  his  horse  behind  a  clump  of  trees,  that  would  screen 
him  from  the  house,  and  took  the  letter  from  his  pocket-book. 
He  could  see  through  the  paper  that  it  was  short,  and  strained 
his  eyes  to  decipher  something  of  its  contents. 

We  commend  this  incident,  as  the  first  of  a  series  of  like  sort, 
to  the  serious  consideration  of  managing  wives,  whose  spouses 
have  no  secrets  from  the  partners  of  their  souls.  Never  was  hus- 
band better  drilled  than  Mr.  Moreau ;  never  had  Benedict  a  mora 
thorough  sense  of  his  wife's  superior  abilities,  as  contrasted  with 
his  own;  never  did  one  profess  more  cheerful  and  implicit  reliance 
upon  her  counsel,  or  appear  to  make  a  more  ample  confession  of 
all  intentions  and  transgressions — yet  his  polar  star,  at  that  hour, 
beamed  radiantly  in  her  firmament,  without  the  least  fear  of 
approaching  tempest.  In  other  words,  Eleanor  was  as  profoundly 
ignorant  of  her  husband's  pecuniary  difficulty  as  of  his  bold  and 
dishonorably  secret  designs  upon  her  brother's  pocket. 

Mr.  Moreau's  conscience  accommodated  itself  with  dexterous 
facilty  to  falsehoods  of  any  dimensions;  but,  such  is  the  restrain- 
ing eff°cts  of  human  law!  he  hesitated  to  break  the  damp  \»  aftr 


214  NEMESIS. 

of  the  missive  he  held.  He  turned  the  letter  over  and  over,  held 
it  up  to  the  light,  and,  at  length,  peeped  in.at  one  end.  This  act 
revealed  his  own  name  at  the  top  of  the  page,  and  he  was  insert- 
ing  his  finger  to  see  what  came  next,  when  the  wafer  split,  anr* 
the  note  came  open  in  his  hands.  It  was  brief,  indeed. 

ELEANOR  :  Mr.  Moreau  has  confided  to  me  the  embarrassed  state  of  h« 
affairs — represented  the  necessity  of  leaving  you  and  your  children  home- 
less unless  relief  is  speedily  afforded.  I  have  supplied  the  means  to  avert 
the  catastrophe,  for  a  while,  at  least.  I  have  rejected  his  thanks.  I  will 
not  receive  yours.  I  wish  you  both  to  understand  that  mercy  for  you  and 
yours  has  not  been  my  motive  in  this  act.  I  have  performed  it  in  memory 
of  your  contrary  course  toward  my  friends,  the  Hales.  Consider,  in 
accepting  this  relief,  that  Providence  has  humbled  you  to  circumstances 
precisely  similar  to  what  were  theirs  when  you  refused  them  aid,  and  feel 
— if  you  have  a  spark  of  feeling  left — that  the  hand  of  the  dead  is  heaping 
coals  of  fire  upon  your  head. 

"The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly  ;"  but  the  turn  of  every  criminal  la 
eure.  I  hope  and  believe  that  yours  is  near  at  hand. 

MALCOLM  ARQYLB. 

Mr.  Moreau  sat  his  horse  like  a  petrifaction.  Deliver  the 
letter  he  could  not.  He  was  afraid  to  destroy  it  or  to  pretend 
that  he  had  lost  it.  Malcolm  had  seen  him  deposit  it  carefully  in 
his  pocket-book.  What  business — it  would  be  asked — had  he  to 
take  it  out  before  reaching  home  ?  Even  if  Eleanor  had  known 
of,  and  authorized  the  loan  he  had  effected,  it  would  be  as  much 
as  his  life  was  worth  to  give  ner  this  crazy  effusion — for  such  it 
seemed  to  him — the  composition  of  a  vengeful  monomaniac.  For 
the  thousandth  time,  he  rained  maledictions  upon  the  Hales, 
without  reflecting  that  the  Providence  he  ignored,  and  the  writer 
of  the  letter  recognized,  had  ordered  that  he  should  read  it  withis 
ten  steps  of  the  spot  where  he  had,  hi  unthinking  and  impertinent 
gallantry,  shut  the  last  door  of  hope  against  Bessy,  by  arousing 
Eleanor's  vindictive  jealousy.  "  Our  pleasant  vices  are  raadt 


K  E  M  E  S  I  8  .  218 

irhips  of,  to  scourge  us  for  our  sins  ;"  and  this  long  lash,  stretch- 
ing across  the  gulf  of  years,  stung  none  the  less  that  the  castiga- 
tion  had  been  delayed.  His  troubled  irresolution  ended  in  his 
rescaling  and  replacing  the  epistle  in  his  wallet. 

"  If  Malcolm  refers  to  it,  which  it  is  not  likely  he  will  do,  he  is 
so  close-mouthed,  and  Eleanor  attacks  me  about  it,  I  will  say 
that  I  forgot  it.  It  will  be  prudent  to  keep  it  for  some  days  5 
then  I  can  burn  it,  and  suppose  that  I  must  have  thrown  it  away, 
with  a  lot  of  old  papers  that  were  littering  up  my  pocket-l>ook 
1  was  always  better  at  fibbing  than  fighting." 


NEMESIS 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THEKE  are  some  days  whose  exceeding  beauty  makes  them  to 
be  events,  rather  than  divisions  of  time,  in  our  lives  ;  whose  fas- 
cinations steal  irresistibly  to  whatever  sense  of  loveliness  there 
may  be  in  us  ;  win  their  way  to  the  heart  as  to  the  fancy,  and 
beguile  the  most  practical  into  love  with  life  and  the  world  that 
furnishes  a  pleasure  s~o  exquisite. 

Such  was  one  forenoon,  when  Malcolm  Argyle  threw  himself 
into  the  saddle  for  a  long  ride. 

"  Coquette  or  not,  May  is  a  bewitching  month,"  he  said,  as  hia 
horse  gallopped  down  the  turfy  lane  and  into  the  forest-borderec 
road.  "June  is  too  passionate,  too  hot  and  dazzling.  I  like  this 
play  of  childlike  smiles  better." 

There  were  truly  smiles  everywhere.  To  some  eyes,  sunshine  is 
ever  the  same,  unless  obscured  or  subdued  by  clouds  ;  whereas,  to 
the  student  lover  of  Nature,  its  characters  are  as  various  and  dis- 
tinct as  the  landscapes  it  blesses.  There  is,  as  Malcolm  said,  the 
rich,  red  glare  of  June,  ripening  the  berries  and  darkening  the 
spring  verdure,  while  it  whitens  the  harvest  fields  ; — filling  the 
aoon-tide  with  the  odors  it  has  rifled  from  flowers  that  droop 
beneath  the  radiance  they  yet  worship  ;  and  robing  the  even'ng 
heavens  with  a  purple  twilight  that  flushes  the  zenith  far  into  the 
night-watches.  Then  comes  the  intense  white  heat  of  August ; 
and  next,  and  perhaps  most  beautiful,  the  soft  yellow  glow  that 
fends  to  September  and  October  an  illusory  charm — a  dreamy 
magic,  that  floods  our  souls  with  delicious,  yet  languorous  fancies  ; 


NEMESIS.  217 

thu  atmosphere  of  all  others,  in  which  poets  oftcnest  leain  what 
they  were  created  to  be  aud  to  do,  and  under  whose  spell  men 
.listen  most  willingly  to  their  strains. 

November  sunlight  is  a  pained  and  joyless  gleam,  more  like  a 
f  own  than  a  smile,  except  when  Indian  Summer,  with  the  breath 
cf  departed  flowers  and  the  \  armth  of  solstitial  airs,  lulls  the 
dreary  mourner  into  sweet  dreams  of  the  pleasures  she  appears 
to  lament  through  the  chill  days  and  gusty  midnights. 

There  is  no  softness,  no  coloring  in  the  sun's  rays  in  winter 
time — only  a  frosty  glitter,  that  never  dallies  with  shadows,  or 
dances  on  the  water  Old  Sol  shines  away  bravely,  but  it  is  evi- 
dently from  a  conviction  of  duty.  Since  he  has  engaged  to  h'ght 
this  dismantled  ball  of  earth,  he  will  adhere  to  his  campact,  but 
it  is  a  loveless  ofiice — well  performed,  yet  not  con  amort.  April 
is  gay  and  pensive  on  alternate  hours,  and  ere  we  tire  of  her 
caprices,  May  skies  are  over  us,  and  upon  the  earth,  light,  that 
eeems  to  quiver  with  gladness.  The  leaves  glisten  and  dance  from 
morn  to  eve  ;  shadows  chase  and  glide  and  disappear  on  the 
plain  ;  the  violets,  far  down  in  the  dell,  unclose  their  blue  eyes  in 
pleased  surprise  at  the  touch  that  awakens  them  ;  and  tempted  by 
t'ie  pure,  frolicksome  kisses  of  the  never-still  rays,  white  lilies  and 
moss-roses  and  timid  anemones  and  shrinking  acacias — the  shy  and 
fragile  darlings  of  the  garden — take  their  places  in  the  vernal  fete. 

Malcolm  yielded  to  the  spell  of  the  day  and  season.  II is  choice 
of  a  route  was  a  sequestered  by-way,  leading  by  mauv  a  devious 
pass,  through  the  heart  of  the  grand  old  forest,  lie  forgot  the 
winters  of  the  man  ;  their  frosts  of  grief  and  disappointment,  and 
ff.lt  himself  again  the  boy,  whose  life  was  to  be  one  unending  May. 
He  talked  to  himself  and  to  his  horse  ;  repeated  poetical  descrip- 
tions of  sylvan  beauties  and  lyrical  praises  of  "  Merrie  Maie  ;" — 
he  even  sang  a  stanza  of  a  hunting-song  he  had  trolled  lustily  with 
his  college-mates. 

"  Gently,  Sprightly  !"  he  said,  coaxingly,  to  the  spirited  mare, 


218  NEMESIS. 

as  she  aiched  her  neck,  curvetted  and  mighed  in  sympathy 
with  the  weather  and  his  sunny  mood.  "  She  is  a  mischievous 
kitten,  yet  an-  affectionate  one  I"  he  continued,  for  she  inclined 
her  small,  pointed  ears  to  his  caressing  hand,  and  glanced  bacfc. 
ward  at  him,  her  brilliant  eye  bespeaking  intelligent  attachment 
to  the  master,  who,  however  stern  and  unsparing  he  might  be 
to  his  own  kind,  was  humane  as  the  most  pitiful  woman  to  dumb 
and  helpless  things. 

"  She  is  thirsty,  poor  creature  I"  said  he,  again,  marking  hei 
wistful  look  at  a  pool  on  the  roadside.  "  No  !  no  I  my  dainty 
lady  !  You  would  not  touch  that  stagnant  water.  The  creek  is 
not  far  ahead  !" 

Another  mile's  canter  brought  th»m  in  sight  of  it.  It  was  a 
sluggish  stream  in  this  part  of  its  course  ;  broad  and  shallow,  and 
lined  on  the  bottom  with  a  thick  stratum  of  decaying  leaves.  The 
road  was  not  much  used  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  vicinity  ;  but  it 
had  been  travelled  sufficiently  to  wear  the  bed  of  the  creek  at 
the  intersection  of  the  two.  And  here,  where  the  water  was  deeper 
and  clearer  than  further  up  or  down  the  channel,  a  lady  equestrian 
had  stopped  to  let  her  horse  drink.  Her  attendant,  whom  Mal- 
colm knew  directly  for  Colonel  Rashleigh's  English  groom,  rode 
along  the  shelving  bank,  to  a  spot  some  distance  below  his  young 
mistress,  and  then  into  the  creek.  Malcolm  saw  his  peril,  and 
galloping  down  the  hill,  shouted  to  the  unwary  stranger  : 

"  There  is  a  quagmire  just  before  you  I    Take  care  1" 

Miss  Rashleigh,  conceiving  the  caution  to  be  meant  for  her, 
wheeled  her  steed  to  the  bank  from  which  she  had  come,  alarmed 
by  the  suddenness  and  the  purport  of  the  warning,  yet  retaining 
her  presence  of  mind.  The  groom  struck  his  spurs  into  his  horse'i 
Bides  and  rushed  into  the  thick  of  the  danger — a  narrow  morass, 
cloaked  by  green  slime  and  moss — but  which  an  acute  eye  would 
have  detected  and  avoided.  The  poor  beast's  legs  were  out  of 
Bight  at  the  second  plunge. 


NEMESIS.  219 

"  Off  with  yon  !"  called  Malcolm.  "  Don't  you  see  that  yoa 
are  sinking  him  deeper  ?" 

The  fellow  fell,  rather  than  slipped  off,  so  helpless  was  his  ter- 
ror. Malcolm  had  dismounted,  and  advancing  as  near  as  he 
dared  to  the  treacherous  quagmire,  seized,  with  one  hand,  a  stout 
branch  that  overhung  the  water,  and  held  out  the  other  to  the 
servant .  It  required  an  exertion  of  his  herculean  strength  to 
drag  the  bulky  frame  from  the  mire,  and  to  firmer  footing  ;  but 
it  was  the  work  of  an  instant.  Then  by  the  help  of  the  invariable 
fence-rail,  to  which  the  Virginian  first  looks  for  succor  in  wayside 
casualties,  and  by  the  combined  efforts  of  the  two,  the  horse  was 
extricated  ;  and  the  task  was  done  in  less  time  than  it  has  takec 
us  to  relate  the  accident. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Argyle  1"  said  Miss  Rashleigh,  gratefully. 

She,  too,  had  crossed  the  creek,  and  remained  a  mute,  but  ex 
cited  spectator  of  the  rescue,  without  distracting  the  attentioa  of 
the  actors  in  it  by  audible  expressions^  of  her  feelings  or  fears. 
Malcolm  had  hardly  seen  her  before,  and  he  observed  now,  that 
she  had  picked  up  Sprightly's  bridle,  which  he  had  flung  upon  hei 
neck,  aud  held  it  with  her  own. 

She  extended  her  hand,  and  there  was  a  tremulous  sparklb  i* 
her  eye.  - 

"  You  are  very  kind  !"  she  said",  frankly.  "  I  tremble  to  think 
what  might  have  happened  but  for  your  arrival." 

Malcolm  could  not  abash  her  by  appearing  to  overlook  her 
grateful  action.  He  took  the  proffered  hand  and  pressed  it 
slightly,  disclaiming  his  right  to  her  thanks. 
.  "  Perhaps"  I  was  in  fault,"  he  said,  "  for  my  hasty  alarm,  which 
confused  your  groom.  But  he  was  too  close  to  the  miry  bank  for 
tne  to  hesitate." 

"You  were  perfectly  right,  I  am  sure.  Thomas  !  do  you 
Understand  that  this  gentleman  saved  your  life  ?" 

"  Do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  Miss  Rashleigh,  magnify  my  trifling 


220  N  K  M  E  8  I  8  - 

service  in  that  proportiot  1"  said  Malcolm,  smiling.  "  Ho  would 
probably  have  lost  his  horse,  but  I  think  he  would  have  contrived 
to  reach  the  shore  himself." 

"  Contrived  !"  Katherine  shook  her  head,  with  a  mischievous 
laugh.  "  I  have  no  precedent  that  warrants  me  in  believing  that 
ho  will  ever  learn  the  meaning  of  the  word.  Are  you  ready, 
Thomas  ?"  she  inquired,  raising  her  voice. 

He  had  withdrawn  a  decent  space,  and  was  shaking  himself, 
like  a  huge  water-dog,  to  dislodge  the  heavier  portions  of  the 
mud  that  enveloped  the  lower  part  of  his  figure  and  bespattered 
him  to  the  crown  of  his  hat. 

"  That  is  a- hopeless  business,"  said  Malcolm  to  him.  "My 
advice  is — with  your  permission,  Miss  Rashleigli — that  you  mount 
your  horse  at  once,  Thomas,  and  ride  home  as  fast  as  possible. 
Exercise  is  the  best  prescription  for  you  after  your  bath,  until 
you  can  get  to  a  fire  and  a  change  of  clothing.  He  is  not  a  fit 
escort  for  you  in  that  plight,  Miss  Rashleigh,"  he  remarked, 
aside.  "  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  see  yon  safely  to  your 
father's  door." 

The  groom,  in  sullen  mortification,  thrust  the  mud  from  his 
stirrups  with  a  stick,  and  muttered  something  about  his  "  orders 
being  never  to  lose  sight  of  Miss  Rashleigli." 

Katherine  flushed  scarlet  at  his  impertinence.  Provoked  as  he 
himself  was,  Malcolm  remarked  the  leaping  fire,  and  how  quickly 
it  was  controlled. 

"  You  will  ride  on  !"  she  commanded,  with  quiet  dignity. 
"  Say  to  your  master  that  I  am  safe,  and  that  Mr.  Argyle  has 
politely  offered  to  attend  me  home." 

The  man's  ludicrous  figure,  as  he  trotted  briskly  before  them, 
#as  to  Malcolm  and  Katheriue  an  apology  for  his  reluctance  to 
precede  them.  The  slimy  mire  dripped  from  him  and  his  hors« 
iu  clots  and  puddles,  that  marked  their  track  in  the  middle  of  the 
road  Departed  was  the  glory  of  his  yellow  leather  breeches  and 


NEMKBI8.  221 

fair  top-boots  From  his  waist  downward  he  was  black  as  tar 
could  have  made  him,  and  the  red  coat  which  he  had  sported 
with  such  swellings  of  national  pride,  was  so  besmirched  and 
spotted  that  there  was  little  hope  of  its  restoration  to  its  pristine 
hue.  His  crest-fallen  air  and  unmistakable  consciousness  of  their 
inspection,  completed  the  sorriness  of  the  picture. 

"  I  can  go  no  further  1"  exclaimed  Katherine,  reining  up. 

Laughter  strangled  her  accents,  and  restraining  herself  by 
superhuman  efforts,  until  the  luckless  lackey  disappeared  behind  a 
bend  in  the  road,  she  gave  way  to  her  emotion  in  a  peal  of  the 
liveliest  merriment  that  ever  echoed  in  forest  dingle.  Malcolm 
joined  in  with  all  his  heart.  Respect  for  her  had  controlled  hi» 
inclination  thus  long. 

Talk  of  the  sympathy  of  the  graver  and  sadder  sentiments  of 
our  nature,  the  friendship  that  springs  into  being  from  the  unfore- 
seen recognition  of  kindred  tastes,  or  that  blooms  upon  the  grave 
of  a  common  sorrow  !  Our  observation — aye,  and  our  experience, 
go  to  prove  that  nothing  so  thaws  the  ice  of  mutual  reserve,  levels 
the  barriers  of  previous  strange rhood  so  instantaneously  as  a 
hearty  laugh,  participated  in,  and  enjoyed  alike  by  both  of  the 
predestined  acquaintances. 

The  bright  eyes,  whose  glances  met  through'  mirthful  tears, 
said  to  each  other  that  apologies  for  the  simultaneous  violation  of 
propriety's  laws  were  neither  expected  nor  desirable.  When  they 
were  so  far  recovered  as  to  pursue  their  ride,  there  were  continual 
lapses  into  similar  evidences  of  amusement,  as  they  recalled  the 
grotesque  apparition,  in  whose  steps  they  were  following. 

"  Were  the  Mays  of  '  Merrie  England '  more  beautiful  to  yon 
than  this  ?"  a>ked  Malcolm,  in  response  to  her  remark  upon  the 
loveliness  of  the  morning. 

"  No  1  I  never  saw  such  sunshine  before."  Her  face  was 
houest  and  happy.  "  I  have  always  heard  that  the  people  in  your 
Southern  State.-  lived  out  of  doors.  If  nature  often  holds  oul 


fi22  a  E  M  E  s  i  s 

temptations  like  to-day,  I  shall  easily  learn  your  habits  Walls 
and  roofs  of  any  description  are  a  prison  in  this  weather." 

"  Excepting  these  !"  answered  Malcolm,  pointing  to  the  pilla/ed 
aisle  they  were  traversing,  formed  by  the  trees  that  spread  theif 
green  canopy  overhead. 

Before  he  thought  of  what  he  did,  he  found  himself  repeating 
from  his  favorite  poet : 

*'  How  airy  and  bow  light  the  graceful  arch ! 
Yet  awful  as  the  consecrated  roof, 
Reechoing  pious  anthems." 

Sue  looked  up  at  him  with  a  smile,  as  of  one  who  hears  his 
native  tongue  in  a  foreign  laud. 

"  Ah  !  you  know  Cowper,  then  ?" 

"  I  read  him  !"  he  replied,  with  a  slight  emphasis. 

She  blushed  at  the  peculiarity  of  her  phrase,  then  rallied  to 
defend  it. 

"  And  do  you  not  find  that  he  has  grown  as  familiar  to  you 
as  any  friend  who  visits  your -house  in  person  ?  When  you  read, 
which  is  his  talking  to  you,  do  you  not  feel  as  if  you  were  like- 
wise talking  with  him  ?" 

"  I  have  experienced  something  of  tfie  kind,  I  must  confess.  ) 
ueed  not  inquire  what  poet  you  admire  most." 

"  Which  one  I  love  most,  you  need  not,  assuredly.  I  have  a 
good  governess,  who,  in  the  excess  of  her  approbation  of  Cowper's 
sentiments  a  id  style,  caused  me  to  transcribe  the  whole  of  his 
'  Task,'  and  to  commit  to  memory  an  incredible  number  of  his 
shorter  poe)  is.  I  learned  thus  to  write  mechanically  while  my 
head  was  fv  1  of  other  things,  and  my  faithless  memory  lost  tho 
larger  part  of  what  was  formally  given  into  her  keeping  ;  bu\ 
all  this  did  lot  eradicate  my  veneration  and  affection  for  the  only 
poet  I  ever  entirely  understood." 

She  pai  sed,  and  with  a  smile,  whose  archness   might   have 


H  F.  M  K  8  I  8  .  223 

leemed  too  free,  had  it  been  less  natural  and  girlish,  added,  "  You 
see,  Mi  .  Argyle,  you  may  finish  your  quotation,  secure  of  an  atten- 
tive listener." 

"  I  did  finish  it—  did  I  not  ?"  s 

i'No,  sir.  You  stopped  on  recollecting  that  you  were  not 
alone." 

]t  was  the  truth.  The  following  lines  were  too  just  a  descrip- 
tion of  what  their  eyes  feasted  upon  that  moment,  not  to  present 
themselves,  unbidden,  to  the  thoughts  of  any  one  who  had  ever 
read  them.  Malcolm  recited  them  ;  partly  because  Miss  Rash- 
leigh  requested  it  ;  mainly  because  they  arose  so  spontaneously  to 
his  lips,  that  an  effort  would  have  been  required  to  keep  them 


"  The  checkered  earth  seems  restless  as  a  flood, 
Brushed  by  the  wind.     So  sportive  is  the  light 
Shot  through  the  boughs,  it  dances  as  they  dauce,  — 
Shadows  and  sunshine  intermingling  quick, 
And  darkening  and  enlight'ning  —  as  the  leaves 
Play  wanton  —  ev'ry  moment,  every  spot." 

"  Thank  you  !"  said  the  young  lady,  simply  and  earnestly. 

The  dimples  still  lingered  in  her  cheek  ;  but  the  sweeping 
fringes  of  the  lids  veiled  "her  downcast  eyes,  and  she  rode  on  for 
some  time  without  speaking.  Her  riding-habit  and  the  cap,  with 
its  falling  plume,  became  her  well,  and  in  any  attire,  common  or 
picturesque,  she  must  have  been  handsome  ;  but  it  was  not  the 
isolated  fact  of  her  beauty  that  drew  and  riveted  the  regards  of 
her  escort.  It  was  a  vague,  thrilling  impression  of  familiarity 
with  the  features  which  it  was  impossible  to  "believe  he  had  ever 
wen  before,  save  hi  the  brief  instant  of  their  introduction  at 
church. 

Yet  that  half-smile,  meditative  and  sweet  ;  the  short  upper  lip 
—  the  thought  of  pride  in  its  curve,  modified  by  the  ripe  fullness 
of  the  lower  ;  the  cleft  chin,  that  imparted  piquancy  to  tbf 


224  NEMESIS. 

countenance  ;  the  shapely  head  and  its  regal  poise  upon  the  wliitt 
neck  ;  these  he  had  seen — not  once  or  twice,  in  a  passing  glimpse 
— but  had  beheld,  and  studied,  arid  loved.  Like  a  flash  of  light 
recurred  to  him  Miss  Barbara's  comment  upon  the  "  English 
girl's  "  resemblance  to  Bessy  Hale.  He  called  himself  stupid  and 
blind  not  to  have  perceived  it  at  a  glance.  This  it  was — the 
accidental  likeness  to  his  early  protege — that  had  moved  him  lo 
an  interest  in  this  young  creature — this  3hild,  in  comparison  with 
his  matured  manhood — such  as  he  had  not  felt  for  aught  in  the 
form  of  woman,  since  the  dream  of  his  youth  was  broken.  At 
this  stage  in  the  revolution  of  his  thoughts,  their  subject  raised 
her  eyes  and  dropped  them  again,  beneath  a  scrutiny,  whose  blent 
interest  and  inquiry  she  could  not  fail  to  read,  and  certainly  did 
not  understand. 

Malcolm  spoke  promptly,  to  end  the  awkward  pause. 

"  That  is  a  noble  animal,  Miss  Rashieigh.  He  is  imported,  I 
suppose  ?" 

"  He  was  one  of  my  fellow- voyagers,"  said  she,  threading  the 
flowing  mane  with  her  fingers.  "  No  place  would  be  quite  home 
without  him.  He  has  owned  me  as  mistress  since  his  coltish 
days." 

"  You  enjoy  riding,  I  perceive.  You  will  not  find  such  horse- 
women here,  as  you  have  been  used  to  see  in  your  own  land. 
American  ladies  are  seldom  equestrian  from  love  of  the  exercise. 
In  many  parts  of  the  country,  it  is  the  only  practicable  mode  of 
conveyance  to  church,  to  the  neighbors'  houses  and  to  town. 
What  is  performed  as  a  necessity,  soon  ceases  to  become  a 
pleasure." 

"  Your  sister,  Mrs.  Moreau,  is  an  exception  to  your  rule,  it 
would  seem.  I  called  at  her  house  this  morning  to  deliver  a 
message  from  my  father  to  Mr.  Moreau.  As  I  was  in  my  habit, 
the  conversation  ran  principally  upon  horses  and  riding.  She 
made  eager  and  minute  inquiries  abomt  certain  English  customs^ 


NEMESIS.  225 

that  a  lorded  opportunity  for  the  display  of  this  accomplishment  ; 
hunting,  steeple-chases,  and  the  like.  There  are  still  ladies,  who 
ride  to  see  the  hounds  throw  off,  and  are  not  only  frequenters  of 
the  turf — but  I  am  ashamed  to  say — risk  and  lose  their  money 
apon  the  race,  as  freely  a?  do  their  husbands  and  brothers.  1 
have  heard  such  stories,  and  my  information  in  these  matters  ia 
only  gained  from  hearsay." 

"  Many  ladies  hi  our  highest  circles  maintain  and  exercise  their 
right  to  witness  such  sports,"  replied  Malcolm. 

"I  am  perhaps  inclined  to  be  Amazonian  in  my  liking  for  fine 
horses,"  said  Katherine,  "  and  education  might  have  made  me  aa 
zealous  a  patron  of  the  race-course  as  Diana  was  of  the  chase, 
had  it  not  been  for  my  father's  insuperable  dislike — prejudice,  if 
you  choose  to  consider  it  such — to  games  of  hazard  in  any 
form." 

"  He  shows  sound  judgment  there  !  I  rejoice  that  his  princi- 
ples are  so  strict" — then  catching  her  surprised  gaze  at  hi<i 
warmth,  he  bit  his  lip  and  changed  the  subject. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  walked  down  the  porch-steps  and  lawn  to 
receive  his  daughter  and  her  cavalier.  He  had  seen  Malcolm 
once  before  on  the  Court-house  green — the  monthly  rendezvous  of 
all  the  male  denizens  of  the  county,  and  now  greeted  him  with  as 
cordial  a  welcome  as  was  compatible  with  present  agitation  and 
general  stiffness. 

"  You  have  earned  our  sincere  gratitude,  sir  ?"  he  said,  in 
fioienm  pomp.  "  I  was  never  more  displeased  with  any  one  in 
my  life,  sir,  than  I  am  with  that  stupid  blockhead  of  a  servant. 
I  shall  appoint  you  some  other  groom,  Katherine,  my  daughter 
A  fellow,  who  cannot  take  care  of  himself  and  his  horse,  must  not 
be  intrusted  with  a  lady's  safety." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  too  hard  upon  him,  papa  !"  said  Katheriue. 
"  He  has  been  sorely  punished  for  his  negligence.  It  was  nothing 
rwit  an  oversight  that  any  of  us  might  have  commi'.cfd  A .4 

10* 


226  K  E  M  E  S  I  8  . 

Mr.  Argyle  if  it  was  not  a  deceptive  quagmire.  I,  myself,  would 
have  mistaken  it  for  solid  ground." 

Thus  referred  to,  Malcolm  was  obliged  to  sustain  her  generous 
appeal  in  behalf  of  the  ungrateful  Thomas. 

"  Others  have  met  with  the  same  misfortune  there,"  he  answered. 
"  One  of  my  neighbors  lost  a  colored  boy  at  that  identical  spot 
last  winter.  He  was  suffocated  beftfce  help  arrived." 

"  Oh  !"  Katherine  grew  pale  and  clasped  her  hands,  at  this 
thoughtless  admission  of  the  peril  he  had  hitherto  affected  to 
treat  lightly. 

Colonel  Eashleigh  moved  his  head  up  and  clown,  in  magisterial 
condemnation  of  the  public  authorities,  that  left  unguarded  a 
pitfall,  whose  danger  was  thus  proclaimed  ;  but  courtesy  wrought 
upon  his  justice  to  induce  him  to  withhold  this  opinion. 

They  were  at  the  house-door,  and  he  invited  Mr.  Argyle  in, 
with  formal  but  sincere  hospitality.  Malcolm  declined,  and 
what  was  harder,  he  held  out  against  the  reiteration  of  the 
request  by  Katherine's  involuntary  look.  But  though  he  risked 
offending  them  in  this  respect,  he  was  too  much  the  gentleman  to 
forget  that  he  ought  to  ask  permission  to  call,  the  following  day, 
and  inquire  whether  Miss  Rashleigh's  health  had  sustained  any 
?hock  from  her  fright.  The  petition  was  readily  granted,  and  he 
took  leave. 

With  spirits  changed  from  the  buoyancy  of  the  early  morning, 
he  set  his  face  homeward.  He — Malcolm  Argyle — the  misogy- 
nist and  Timon  of  the  region — had  ridden  four  miles  in  company 
with  a  woman — young  and  handsome — without  satiety  or  dis- 
gust ;  had  talked  of  the  weather — a  theme  he  despised,  as  the 
Btaple  of  discourse  among  fools  and  fashionables — and,  more 
absurd  1  had  quoted  poetry,  like  a  sentimental  Sophomore, 
Worst  of  all  1  was  he  not  committed  to  a  call — a  visit  in  cold 
bio )d  and  broad  daylight,  at  her  father's  house  !  and  he  foresaw 
manifold  obstacles  in  the  w;iy  of  civilly  dropping  an  acquaintance 


NEMESIS.  227 

thus  commenced.  He  railed  at  himself  for  inconsistency,  because 
he  was  not  more  annoyed — angry,  in  fact — at  the  advantage 
secured  over  him  by  the  fate  adverse  to  the  uneventful  routine  of 
his  secluded  life.  Almost  a  stranger  as  he  was  to  those  who  bad 
known  him  since  his  birth,  why  should  he  allow  circumstances  to 
force  these  foreign  comers  upon  his  acquaintanceship  ?  He  suc- 
ceeded in  .deceiving  himself  into  an  inclement  humor  by  the  time 
he  dismounted  at  lien  Lomond,  and,  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  Misa 
Barbara  wore  (spiritual  and  invisible)  sackcloth  and  ashes  for 
the  palpable  failure  of  her  recent  attempt  at  amelioration  of  his 
moods. 

It  was  a  relief  to  see  him  set  off  upon  his  accustomed  ride  next 
morning. 

'•  He's  bilious,  I  think,"  she  said,  "  and  maybe  the  shakin'  and 
the  air  will  do  him  good." 

The  remedies  doubtless  proved  efficacious,  for  when  he  pre- 
sented himself  in  Colonel  Rashleigh's  drawing-room,  his  fresh 
complexion  and  clear  eye  betokened  excellent  digestion  and  a 
healthy  state  of  the  blood. 

The  apartment  was  not  adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  now  used,  except  in  size.  The  wainscot  was  painted  dark- 
e^recn,  and  the  furniture  having  been  selected  to  correspond,  and 
the  narrow  windows  being  placed  very  high  up,  the  lugubrious 
effect  was  gloomily  unpleasiug.  Malcolm  reverted  to  Katherine'a 
declaration  that  roofs  and  walls  were  a  prison  at  this  season,  and 
believed  that  he  had  discovered  the  secret  of  her  partiality  for 
out-of-door  life.  Colonel  Rashleigh  had  met  him  in  the  hall  and 
ushered  him  into  this  room,  in  a  state  that  prepared  the  visitoi 
for  an  introduction  to  a  large  company,  whereas  there  was  not  a 
soul  there  beside  themselves. 

"  Be  seated,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Argyle  !" 

The  colonel  drew  forward  an  immense  chair,  shrouded  in  green 
•Irapery.  Malcolm  thought  of  the  pillory,  as  the  perpendicular 


228  W  E  M  E  «  I  8  . 

back  straightened  his  spina)  column  to  a  right  line,  and  h  Us* 
pensed  with  the  use  of  a  footstool  that  was  considered  as  a  j>art 
of  the  throne. 

"  You  are  not  afflicted  with  the  gout,  then,  sir  ?"  said  the  host, 
seeing  this  action. 

Malcolm  could  not  prevent  a  smile,  and  a  glance  at  his  young, 
Btrong  limbs.  „ 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Ah,  indeed  1  Is  it  an  hereditary  complaint  in  your  family, 
sir?" 

"  Not  that  I  ever  heard.  It  does  not  prevail  in  this  country 
to  any  great  extent,  and  is  becoming  a  more  rare  complaint 
yearly." 

"  Is  it  possible !  To  what  cause  do  you  attribute  this  remark 
able  circumstance,  sir  ?" 

"  I  really  am  unable  to  explain  it,"  answered  the  visitor,  begin- 
ning to  feel  bored.  "  Perhaps  the  climate  " 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  opening  of  a  door  opposite  to  him, 
which  let  in  a  stream  of  light  from  an  outer  room.  It  was  a 
fleeting  illumination,  for  the  person  entering  closed  the  door  as 
she  stepped  within  the  parlor.  Both  gentlemen  arose. 

"  Mr.  Argyle — allow  me  to  present  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  My  dear, 
we  are,  as  you  know,  greatly  indebted  to  Mr.  Argyle  for  his 
valuable  service  to  our  daughter  yesterday." 

The  lady's  white  face  and  hands  were  all  that  Malcolm's  eyes, 
bMded  by  the  late  passing  light,  could  immediately  distinguish. 
She  was  tall,  and  arrayed  in  dark  or  black  robes,  and  this  was 
the  extent  of  his  discoveries  concerning  her  until  she  had  been 
jeated  some  moments. 

"  We  were  engaged  in  an  interesting  conversation,  m/  dear, 
said  Colonel  Rashleigh,  in  his  pompous,  deliberate  voice.     "Mr. 
Argyle  encourages  me  to  hope  that  my  troublesome  inhe  itauce, 
the  gout,  may  not  be  a  perpetual  enemy  in  this  salubrious  dimate 


NEMESIS,  229 

It  vould  be  a  singular  coincidence,  sir,  if  the  .emigration  from  the 
land  of  my  fathers,  resolved  upon  by  the  advice  of  Mrs.  Ra-h- 
leigh's  physician,  Sir  Humphrey  Asbury — you  may  have  heard 
of  him,  sir  ?" 

Malcolm  owned  his  ignorance  in  this  respect. 

"  Sir  Humphrey  Asbury — a  skillful  and  popular  practitioner, 
sir — should,  I  say,  eventuate  in  my  owu  recovery  from  a  painful 
and  tedious  disorder.  But  I  am  detaining  you,  Mr.  Argyle  "-— 
with  a  Graudisonian  bow  and  wave  of  the  hand.  "  I  detain  you 
from  the  conclusion  of  your  observations  upon  the  causes  of  the 
decline  of  this  ancient  disease  among  the  citizens  of  these  United 
States." 

"  Xot  at  all,  sir  1"  rejoined  Malcolm,  growing  more  and  more 
restive  for  liberty  and  silence.  "  I  merely  suggested  that  the 
climate  might  have  something  to  do  with  it.  I  know  very  little 
of  the  gout  or  its  treatment." 

"  It  was  Sir  Humphrey  Asbury's  opinion,  in  which  he  was  sup- 
ported by  the  celebrated  Dr.  Arbuthnot — You  have  some 
acquaintance  with  his  fame,  perhaps,  Mr.  Argyle  ?" 

Fortunately,  Mr.  Argyle  was  able  to  reply  in  the  affirmative. 

"  An  eminent  man,  sir,  he  was  ! — a  re-rnar-ka-ble  man  !  It 
was  the  belief,  sir,  of  both  these  distinguished  physicians  " 

Again  that  blessed  ray  of  brightness  beyond,  and  a  rush  of  cool 
uir  with  it.  This  time,  the  door  was  left  open. 

•'  Good  morning,  Mr.  Argyle  !''  said  Katherine,  walking  up  to 
him  with  a  modest,  frank  grace,  that  was  inexpressibly  charming. 

Without  consulting  Colonel  Rashleigh's  dull,  grey  eyes,  or  his 
own  previous  determination  of  distant  politeness,  Malcolm  shook 
hands  with  her. 

"  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  quite  well  to-day  ?"  he 
inquired.  "  Have  you  suffered  any  inconvenience  from  youl 
adventure  of  yesterday  ?" 

"  Nu — how  could  1?     It  is  I   who  should  make  inquiries  <>f 


230  NEMESIS. 

you.  Are  /ou  sure  that,  you  did  not  strain  your  arm  in  drawing 
poor  Thomas  from  his  '  Slough  of  Despond  ?'  I  described  the 
exploit,  in  detai.,  to  papa,  last  night,,  and  he  was  much  concerned 
test  you  should  have  over-exerted  yourself." 

"  It  was  an  unnecessary  fear.  I  am  none  the  worse  for  what 
you  pertinaciously  dignify  into  an  exploit.  And,  in  reciprocating 
civilities,  we  are  forgetting  the  only  damaged  individual  of  the 
trio.  How  is  your  groom,  in  mind  and  body  ?" 

"  Happily  convalescent."  Katherine  laughed  as  joyously  aa 
i'£  the  room  were  not  hung  with  dark  green,  and  her  stately 
father  and  silent  mother  were  not  within  hearing.  "  Gay  feathers 
make  gay  birds  ;  and  his  spirits  have  recovered  their  usual  pitch . 
at  the  assurance  of  the  laundress  that  his  livery  is  not  utterly 
beyond  hope." 

She  had  remained  standing  while  addressing  and  replying  to 
Malcolm,  and  now  turned  to  her  mother. 

"  Mamma  !  did  you  deliver  my  message — my  petition  to  the 
gentlemen  ?" 

"  I  did  not.     It  escaped  my  memory." 

"  We  await  your  ladyship's  commands,"  said  Colonel  Rashleigh, 
with  heavy  gallantry. 

Katherine  courtesied  in  mock  gratitude.  Malcolm's  inward 
simile  was  of  a  fawn  sporting  with  an  elephant. 

"  Then,  will  it  please  your  worships  to  walk  into  the  other 
parlor  ?  It  is  lighter  and  cooler  than  this" — throwing  an  im- 
patient look  around  it — "  less  like  a  funeral  state-chamber,  if  you 
will  pardon  my  candor,  papa." 

He  would  have  frowned  at  her  depreciation  of  his  pet  apart- 
ment, but  her  witching  smile  mollified  his  displeasure.  The 
"othei  parlor"  was  the  ladies'  sitting-room.  India  matting  wa,g 
Bpread  upon  the  floor  ;  white  dimity  curtains,  with  wide  fringes, 
ulinded  the  windows  ;  there  were  three  work-tables,  with  gay 
covers,  and  upon  each  a  glass  containing  wild  flowers  ;  low  chain 


NEMESIS.  231 

and  foot-cusnions  stood  about,  in  convenient  confusion,  and  in  one 
window  was  a  linnet's  cage.  Mrs.  Holt,  in  her  dove-colored 
dress,  was  waiting  to  pay  her  respects  to  the  viaitor — very  mild 
and  very  prim.  She  was  no  more  the  presiding  genius  of  thia 
cheerful  and  tasteful  home-bower,  than  was  the  cold,  stern-fea- 
tured woman  who  waved  Malcolm  to  a  chair,  in  a  line  with  that 
winch  she  selected  for  herself,  as  if  the  use  of  ht,r  tongue  would 
compromise  her  habitual  haughtiness.  Owing  to  the  situation 
assigned  him,  inadvertently,  as  he  imagined,  he  could  not  get  a 
fair  view  of  her,  except  by  wheeling  around  half-way  in  his  seat ; 
nor  was  the  temptation  very  powerful  while  Katherine  was  facing 
him. 

The  more  effectually  to  break  up  the  stiffness  of  a  group  whose 
component  members  were  so  uncongenial,  she  had  'resumed  her 
work,  the  netting-box,  with  its  ivory  shuttle  and  threads  of  spider- 
like  fineness.  And,  as  her  fingers  flew,  eyes,  tongue  and  smiles 
were  weaving  a  pretty  tissue  of  quaint  fancies  and  'sprightly  wit, 
that,  hanging  about  her  father's  harangues  and  her  governess 
"  elegant  extracts,"  relieved  the  dullness  of  one  and  the  pedantry 
of  the  other. 

"  She  is  an  original,  and  a  pleasing  variety  in  the  dead-level 
silliness  and  affectation  of  her  sex,"  reflected  the  ungallant 
listener.  "  The  miracle  is  how  she  has  resisted  the  influences  of 
society  like  this.  I  should  as  soon  have  expected  to  find  a  sweet' 
brier  growing  in  a  vault.  She  never  got  that  soul  from  the 
father,"  surveying  the  John  Bull  visage,  with  its  double  chin  and 
flabby  eyelids  ;  its  master-trait  being  solemn  self-conceit.  "Wai 
the  etht'rial  spark  the  mother's  gift?" 

He  was  inspired  by  a  curiosity  to  pry  into  the  mystery.  Push 
ing  his  chair  back  that  he  might  see  her,  he  accosted  Mrs.  Rash 
kigh  : 

"You  have  hardly  had  time  to  give  our  climate  a  thorough 
test  vvr,  madam  !" 


£S2  NEMESIS  . 

The  faintest  tint  of  rose  suffused  the  lady's  wan  cheek  It 
might  be  of  displeasure  at  the  unceremonious  address,  for  sba 
averted  her  eyes  in  replying. 

"  I  presume  not." 

"  Have  you  ever  visited  our  continent  before  ?" 

"  Yes" — she  seemed  to  steady  her  voice.  "  I  was  in  America 
nee — many  years  since — in  my  youth." 

"  You  never  told  me  that,  mamma  1"  cried  the  impulsive 
Katherine. 

"Did  I  not?" 

It  was  all  she  said,  and  her  daughter  understood  that  for  somo 
reason  she  was  not  to  prosecute  her  inquiries. 

Malcolm  too  desisted.  The  reserve  he  had  cultivated  in  his 
own  demeanor  did  not  dispose  him  to  sympathy  with  kindred 
qualities  in  others.  If  this  unsocial  dame  fancied  the  part  of  the 
"proud  ladye"  in  the  ballad,  he  was  not  the  man  to  interfere 
with  her  masquerade.  He  considered  that  his  overtures  had  been 
frank  and  gentlemanly.  She  saw  fit  to  repel  them,  and  in  their 
succeeding  interviews,  should  any  such  be  -set  down  in  the  book 
of  their  future,  she  must  lead  off  in  conversation — not  he. 

Again,  a  thoughtful  ride  and  a  slow,  along  the  forest  road. 
Again,  reason  demonstrated  his  discomfort,  martyr  as  he  was,  to 
the  irrational  conventionalities  of  the  society  to  which  he  was  a 
professed  outlaw  ;  victimized  by  pride  and  prosinesa  and  untimely 
displays  of  learning — and  again,  feeling  gave  the  lie  to  every 
representation  ;  refutqd  every  argument. 

"  The  cause  is  plain  enough,"  he  uttered,  sc  emphatically 
that  Sprightly  pricked  up  her  ears.  "  It  must  be  the  likeness  to 
poor  lost  Bessy  that  makes  me  notice  and  think  of  the  girl." 

And  he  got  down  from  his  horse  to  pluck  a  spray  of  sweet- 
brier  waving  beside  the  path.  It  was  fastened  in  his  bosom,  <uwi 
transferred  thence  to  a  glass  of  water  in  his  room  that  night 

He  did  not  inquire  of  Reason  or  Feeling  why  he  did  this. 


K  M  E  8  I  ft  .  233 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THAT  his  whimsical  brother-in-law  had  changed  his  mind,  Mr. 
Moreau  was  informed  by  his  appearance  on  the  night  of  tho 
party.  The  room  was  a  third  full  of  company  when  he  arrived 
Marcia  Carrington  was  gossiping  with  Jessie  Hunter  iu  a  corner, 
when  a  buzz  went  around  from  group  to  group,  and  directed  th» 
eyes  ,of  the  early  friends  to  the  entrance-door. 

"  A  resurrection  1"  commented  one  lady  to  another. 

"  More  likely  a  reconciliation  !"  replied  a  gentleman  who  over 
heard  the  remark.  •'  They  say  that,  lately,  Moreau  has  spent  hal/ 
his  time  at  Ben  Lomond." 

"  He  might  do  worse  !"  said  a  bystander,  significantly  ;  and 
both  gentlemen  laughed  a  little,  at  which  the  ladies  looked 
puzzled . 

"  Why  I  there's  Malcolm,  I  declare  I"  exclaimed  Jessie 
"  What  is  going  to  happen  ?  Eleanor  told  me  that  she  did  not 
believe  he  would  come.  Isn't  it  funny  ?  He  hates  parties 
awfully !" 

Mama's  cheeks  tingled  with  conflicting  emotions.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  the  next  person  with  whom  Malcolm  met,  after  pay- 
ing his  respects  to  the  host  and  hostess,  was  the  burly'pla  liter 
*ho  had  been  the  guiltless  Paris  to  his  Helen  In  the  benevolent 
pity  of  his  heart,  the  worthy  husband  threw  as  much  cordiality 
as  his  kind,  red  face  was  capable  of  expressing,  into  his  salutation, 
and  his  hearty  tones  swelled  above  the  murmur  of  other  voices. 

"  Happy  to  meet  you,  at  last,  Mr.  Argyle  !     Upon  my  word, 


234  N  E  M  E  8  I  8. 


despaired  ol  ever  getting  better  acquainted  with  you.  Mj 
wife  will  be  glad  to  renew  the  friendship  that  once  existed 
between  you,  I  am  sure.  Come  and  speak  to  her  —  won't  you  ?" 

Marcia  was  not  sensitive  ;  yet  she  was  ashamed,  as  she  noted 
how  general  was  the  attention  and  ill-concealed  amusement  which 
this  movement  excited..  When  Mr.  Carrington  puffingly  pre- 
sented "  an  old  friend,  my  dear  Marshy  "  (we  spell  as  he  pro 
nounced),  "whom  you  will  be  glad  to  meet  again,"  her  "voice 
was  cold  and  constrained,  while  her  face  was  on  fire  with  con- 
fusion. 

"  I  met  Mr.  Argyle  two  weeks  ago,  at  church,"  she  said,  and 
stooped  to  pick  up  her  fan. 

Malcolm  bent  for  it  before  she  could  touch  it,  and  returned  it 
with  a  politeness  as  easy  as  hers  was  embarrassed. 

"  How  are  you,  Jessie  ?"  he  said,  shaking  hands  with  the  sister 
he  had  not  seen  before  in  months. 

"As  weak^and  sick  as  I  can  be,  to  keep  on  my  feet,"  she 
rejoined,  plaintively.  "  I  ought  not  to  be  here  to-night.  I  shall 
pay  for  it,  and  dearly  too." 

"  I  hope  not  1"  Her  brother  took  a  seat  beside  her.  "  And 
the  latest  Nimrod  !  how  is  his  Littleness  ?" 

The  play  upon  her  married  name  was  not  new  to  Jessie,  or  she 
would  not  have  comprehended  the  allusion. 

"  He  is  very  well  !"  she  answered,  animatedly.  "  If  he  were 
not  asleep,  I  would  take  you  up  to  see  him  —  and  you  too,  Mar- 
cia. He  is  a  monstrous  child  of  his  age.  A  perfect  beauty  — 
like  the  Argyles,  too  1  My  other  children  are  all  Hunters." 

"  Fond  of  children,  Mr.  Argyle  ?"  asked  Mr.  Carriugton, 
agreeably. 

"  You  would  not  believe  me  if  I  were  to  say  '  No,'  Mr.  Car 
riugton." 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  came  near  the  truth  there,  sir  !"  returned 
the  bluff  planter.  "  I  have  no  respec*  for  a  man  —  indeed  I  can 


NEMESIS.  235 

Dt  conceive  of  a  uitnwho  has  ;uiy  soul,  uot  loving  the  deal  little 
tilings — bless  their  hearts  !" 

"  You  are  still  delicate  then,  Jessie  ?''  said  Malcolm. 

"  Delicate  I  yes,  and  always  shall  be  1"  she  sighed 

A  sadder  wreck  of  a  fair  and  fresh  beauty  could  hardly  have 
been  imagined.  Her  comeliness  had  never  had  the  appearance 
of  fast  colors,  in  her  best  days.  It  was  too  dependent  upon 
the  gloss  and  curl  of  her  abundant  locks  ;  her  eyes  were  too  palo 
iu  their  blue  ;  her  skin  too  ready  to  betray  the  rise  and  fall  of 
the  blood.  She  resembled  now  a  picture  that  had  faded  out. 
Her  hair  was  thin,  and  h'feless  as  tow  ;  the  blue  irids  were  so 
light  as  to  be  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the  white  surrounding 
them  ;  and  iu  the  sunken  cheeks  there  were  sallow  spots  where 
once  the  blush-rose  had  flourished.  She  had  suffered  certainly 
from  bodily  ailments  ;  but  more  from  what  was  the  aggravation, 
if  not  the  chief  cause  of  these — a  hypochondria,  as  sedulously 
nursed,  and  paraded  with  as  much  pride  as  were  the  children, 
multiplying  discouragingly  about  her  knees. 

Her  brother's  unwonted  interest  in  her,  and  in  the  late  arrival, 
gratified  her  exceedingly.  The  Providence  that  helps  the  lame 
and  the  lazy  had  helped  her  to  a  man  far  higher  in  the  scale  of 
probitj ,  and  in  easier  worldly  circumstances  than  Eleanor's  acti- 
vity had  secured  for  herself  Under  his  influence,  Jessie  had 
grown  more  amiable,  if  not  more  disinterested:  Silly  and  vaiu 
she  was  by  nature,  but  the  gentle  loves  of  home  had  softened  the 
ill-temper  she  had  mostly  acquired  from,  aud  exercised  upon,  her 
sister.  "Weak  in  action  and  vapid  in  conversation  she  must  ever 
remain,  and  since  she  had  claimed  a  place  on  the  invalid  list,  she 
was  particularly  tiresome,  as  Malcolm  was  made  to  reel,  without 
waste  of  time  on  her  part.  She  was  desirous  to  entertain  her 
brother.  As  Mr.  Iln.itor  said,  "  they  had  enough  bread  and 
butter  of  their  own  to  fill  the  babies'  mouths,  without  playing 
•  boot-licks  to  a  relation  who  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  havi  w 


236  NEMESIS. 

family  to  spend  bis  money.     Let  Eleanor  have  it,  and  welcome, 
Jess !     It  would  be  a  pity  to  have  all  her  work  thrown  away." 

Jessie  submitted  outwardly — inasmuch  as  she  refrained  from 
allusions  to  her  sister's  schemes  and  conjectures  about  Malcolm's 
wealth,  in  the  hearing  of  her  husband,  and  did  not  gainsay  Elea- 
nor's insinuations  as  to  the  legitimate  destination  of  the  patri- 
monial estate  ;  but  sometimes  she  waxed  malcontent  at  this  cool 
surrender  of  her  rights.  Malcolm's  flattering  notice  of  her  on 
this  occasion,  reanimated  slumbering  ambition.  What  was  mere 
reasonable  than  that  she  should  be  his  favorite  sister  ?  She  had 
never  thwarted  him,  injured  his  friends  and  quarrelled  outrighl 
with  him,  as  Eleanor  had  done.  The  baby  was  not  named.  Sh*» 
would  beg  Mr.  Hunter — she  would  insist,  as  the  mother  had  *• 
right  to  do — that  the  cherub  should  be  called  Malcolm  Argyle. 
People  said  that  Malcolm  would  never  marry,  since  Mareia  had 
treated  him  so  badly,  and  it  did  seem  improbable.  What  if  he 
were  to  adopt  his  namesake  nephew  ?  Eleanor  had  dreamed  of 
the  same  thing  in  naming  her  second  child  ;  but  there  were  no 
signs  yet  that  her  wishes  were  true  prophets. 

These  thoughts  swam  in  her  soft  brain,  while  she  was  endea- 
voring to  relate  the  leading  symptoms  of  her  infirm  health  ;  and 
Malcolm,  seemingly  lent  an  attentive  ear,  his  eye  resting  mean- 
while, as  by  accident,  upon  the  door. 

The  Rashleighs  were  to  remain  all  night  at  Montrouge— the 
Moreaus'  residence.  This  was  Eleanor's  arrangement,  in  order 
to  secure  the  attendance  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  who  was  fearful  of 
the  night  air.  They  had  been  detained  on  the  road  by  an  acci- 
dent to  the  harness  of  their  can-iage,  and  having  to  dress  at 
Montrouge,  were  therefore  rather  late  in  appearing  below  stairs. 
Eleanor  had  circulated,  industriously,  tales  of  their  social  distinc- 
tion in  England,  and  the  paternal  affection  felt  by  the  uncle  fol 
Mr  Moreau,  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  elegance  and  th*e  daughters 
beauty  and  accomplishments.  These  things,  working  in  tho 


NEMESIS  237 

imaginations  of  the  other  guests,  together  with  the  fact  tliut  they 
arere  collected  here  to  do  thorn  honor,  created  a  setisation,  wheii 
Klcaiior  advanced  eagerly  to  salute  the  distinguished  strangers 
Colonel    Rashleigh,    in  white  silk  stockings,  knee-buckles,  lace 
upon  his  ruffled  shirt-bosom,  aud  a  streamer  of  broad  black  rib 
bon  flowing  down  his  back,  from  his  powdered  queue,  was  as  impos- 
ing as  he  intended  to  be.    Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  dressed  in  grey  silk 
F'I!M TV  in   lu>tre  aud  rich  in  fabric.     The  laces  of  her  cap,  neck- 
-  were  exquisite  as  the  production  of  fairy  looms; 
and  a  brilliant  diamond  star  pinued  the  transparent  folds  at  her 
throat.     She  was  the  Cynosura  of  every  eye  ;  but  pale,  tranquil 
in  her  gravity,  she  appeared  utterly  disregardful  of  the  curiosity 
respect  and  admiration  that  she  kindled.      Katherine  came  in 
with  her  governess.     Her  dress  of  white  gauze  over  pink  silk, 
was  pretty  and  girlish,  while  it  befitted  the  daughter  of  a  man 
of  Colonel  Rashleigh's  reputed  wealth.     Among  her  dark  tresses, 
oven  a  wreath  of  sweet-brier — leaves  and  blossoms.     Mal- 
colm marvelled  at  the  coincidence  of  his  fancy  and  her  taste. 

"  How  very  odd  1"  he  thought,  smilingly.  "  I  will  ask  her, 
some  time,  how  she  happened  to  select  that  flower." 

"  Those  are  Mr.  Moreau's  rich  relations — are  they  not  ?"  asked 
Jessie,  "  I  am  dying  to  see  them  !" 

"Be  so  good  as  to  move  aside  a  little,  Mr.  Carrington,  if  yon 
please,"  said  Malcolm.  "  Now,  Jessie,  look  and  live  !" 

"  What  superb  laces  I"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Carrington,  in  the 
pubdued  tone  of  intense  awe.  "  There  is  a  small  fortune  in  that 
dress  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  !  And  those  magnificent  diamonds  ! 
Sec  how  they  si  line,  Stanhope !" 

"  The  daughter's  eyes  please  me  better  than  the  diamonds 
do,  my  dear,"  replied  her  husband.  "  Ah,  Mr.  Argyle  !  there 
U)  a  prize  worth  a  hard  race.  What  a  chance  for  you  young 
men  ! ' 

"  \^  ho  are  fortunate  in  not  having  Mr.  Carriugton  for  a  cum 


238  NEMESIS. 

petitor,"  was  the  pleasant  rejoinder.  "  One  who.se  apprecia 
tion  of  beauty  is  so  lively,  could  not  but  be  a  formidable 
rival.'' 

Mrs.  Carringtou's  vanity  would  have  been  more  pleased,  had 
her  jilted  suitor  remained  silent  at  the — considering  all 
things — malapropos  remark  of  her  spouse  ;  or  had  he  replied  in 
any  other  style  than  the  jest,  with  which  he  moved  away.  It  testi- 
fied with  mortifying  clearness,  that  he  was  no  longer  haunted  by 
tender  memories  of  her. 

The  genuine  spirit  of  English  reserve  with  regard  to  household 
concerns,  prevailed  at  Briar  wood.  Hence,  Malcolm's  rescue  of 
{Catherine's  groom  and  his  subsequent  call  were  unknown,  as  yet, 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  estate.  Eleanor  watched  her  brother,  as 
he  gradually  approached  the  young  heiress  ;  saw  his  bow  and  hei 
smile,  and  construed  this,  as  well  as  the  conversation  that  ensued, 
into  an  exhibition  of  his  desire  to  strengthen  the  restored  family 
peace,  by  amity  with  its  more  remote  members,  and  Katherine's 
friendly  disposition  toward  her  cousin's  connections.  She  had  * 
passion  for  diplomacy,  and  no  sooner  was  the  idea  lodged  iu  hei 
mind  that  her  gentlemanly  arid  wealthy  brother  might  be  an 
efficient  ally  in  obtaining  for  her  a  footing  with  her  husband's 
high-born  relatives — might,  by  exalting  the  Argyles  in  the  sight 
of  the  aristocratic  Colonel,  dispose  him  to  geneiosity  to  the 
nephew,  who  had  nobly  maintained  the  family  dignity  in  hia 
marriage  ;  no  sooner  had  this  tempting  bubble  caught  her  eye, 
than  her  thoughts  carted  after  it,  with  an  ardor  that  ought  to 
kave  brought  success.  Amid  the  distractions  incident  to  her 
hostesship,  she  kept  vigilant  guard  over  her  intended  engine, 
dreading  every  instant  to  see  him  retire  from  the  field  and  relapse 
Into  his  habitual  unsocial  ways. 

"He  was  more  merciful — as  she  told  her  husband,  in  one  of  theii 
hurried  conferences  : 

"  Malcolm  is  really  behaving  beautifully.     Was  it  your  visit  Uj 


N  K  M  E  ::   I  8  .  239 

him,  the  other  day,  that  has  worked  this  miracle  iu  him  ?     You 
are  getting  into  fhvor  at  last,  rnv  dear." 

She  swept  on,  not  staying  to  witness  the  effect  of  this  choice 
nugar-plum  upon  her  liege  lord.     Possibly,  the  grimace  he  exe- 
cuted wUeu  her  back  was  turned  would  have  taught  her,  had 
Bhe  seen  it,  that  there  are  secrets,  as  well  as  accidents,  in  th 
besfc-regulated  household.--. 

Malcolm  finally  resigned  his  place  by  Miss  llushlcigh's  side  t« 
a  gentleman  who  had  solicited  her  hand  for  the  dance,  then  form- 
ing. He  was  standing  near  one  of  the  deep  windows — a  looker 
on  of  the  merry  mazes — when  his  sister  sailed  up  to  him. 

"  Malcolm,  have  you  forgotten  how  to  dance  a  Scotch  reel  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  suppose  that  I  have,"  he  returned,  gaiing 
at  her  more  intently  than  was  needful  or  comfortable  to  her,  con- 
scious, as  she  was,  of  a  double  purpose  iu  the  proposal  she  had  on 
her  tongue. 

But  she  had  a  bold  face  always  at  her  command — "  matchless 
effrontery,"  as  Malcolm  denominated  it.  He  had  not  believed 
that  even  those  fearless  eyes  could  sustain  his  meaning  look,  after 
the  humiliation  she  had  lately  undergone  at  his  hands.  A  side 
glance  showed  him  Mr.  Moreau,  not  far  off,  trying  to  carry 
on  a  gay  conversation,  while  his  eyes  were  upon  the  brother  and 
sister,  in  an  agonized  suspense  Malcolm  understood  but  partially, 
and  Eleanor  did  not  see.  In  blissful  ignorance  of  the  letter  burn- 
ing in  her  feusband's  pocket,  seeming  to  throb  against  his  guilty 
heart,  her  mask  was  less  elaborate  than  Malcolm  supposed. 

"  I  have  been  making  inquiries  among  our  friends,  and  am  dis- 
appointed that  so  many  declare  themselves  unable  to  go  through 
the  figure.  Colonel  Rashleigh  requested  me  to  get  up  the  set, 
•aid  I  promised.  It  Ls  Ka-theriue's — Mist  Rashleigh's — favorita 
dai  *  tec.  What  a  pity  !" 

Malcolm  did  not  reply,  although  she  paused  to  afford  him  th« 
opportunity.  She  resumed: 


240  NEMESIS. 

"  I  thought  that  you  would  perhaps  lead  her  out — just  this 
once — rather  than  the  plan  should  be  spoiled.  You  used  to 
excel  in  this  dance." 

The  artful  compliment  doubtless  conquered  his  scruples,  for  his 
features  relaxed,  • 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  "If  you  only  need  me  to  complete- 
your  number,  and  Miss  Rashleigh  will  accept  me  as  a  partner,  I 
will  break  through  my  rules  and  oblige  you." 

"  Thank  you  1 — thank  you!"  in  raptures  with  herself  and  him. 
"  Shall  I  be  the  bearer  of  your  compliments  to  dear  Katherine  V 

"  No.     I  will  prefer  my  suit  in  person." 

"Who  of  us  has  not  a  weak  side  ?"  said  Eleanor,  secretly.  "  I 
uever  yet  saw  a  man  whose  head  could  not  be  made  to  whirl  by  a 
judicious  touch  of  flattery — nor  one  whom  I  could  not  manage." 

The  obliging  brother  kept  his  word,  and  his  request  meeting 
with  a  favorable  response,  he  stood  up  in  the  next  dance  with 
Katherine  Rashleigh.  He  performed  his  part  with  spirit,  having 
stipulated  beforehand  that  his  partner  should  correct  the  mis- 
takes that  would  inevitably  arise  from  his  want  of  practice.  He 
designed  making  one  or  two  accidental  blunders,  to  bear  out  his 
assertion  of  awkwardness,  but  forgot  the  premeditated  deceit 
before  he  had  been  once  across  the  floor.  Katherine  danced  as 
she  talked — gaily  and  unaffectedly,  and  her  airy  motions,  joined 
to  the  lively  badinage  she  exchanged  with  her  companion,  were 
the  cause  of  his  rernissness  in  not  carrying  out  his  laudable 
scheme.  She  charged  him  with  the  cheat,  as  he  offered  his  arm 
at  the  close  of  the  set,  and  received,  for  vindication,  the  assurance 
that  he  had  mistaken  the  direction  wherein  his  deficiency  lay, 
tie  was  certain  that  the  intricacies  of  a  country  dance  would 
baffle  him. 

"  If  you  would  have  evidence  of  my  veracity,  and  are  not  timid 
about  being  laughed  at  for  the  stupidity  of  your  partner,  try  tlw 
next  with  me.  I  engage  that  you  shall  be  convinced." 


NKME8I8.  24  I 

"  Not  the  next.  You*-  sister's  guests  will  have  cause  to  com- 
plain of  iny  monopolizing  your  attentions.  Let  me  see  I  I  am 
free  for  the  sixth  set.  Will  you  have  that,  instead  ?" 

lie  took  her  tablet  and  wrote  down  his  name. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  I  will  go  and  sit  down  by  Mrs.  Holt  and 
rest,  during  this  dance.  Matmna  does  not  like  me  to  keep  the 
floor  too  long  at  a  tune,  so  I  always  reserve  '  rests '  hi  my  list  of 
engagements." 

"  You  do  not  seem  to  be  fatigued." 

"  1  am  not.  Mamma  says  that  it  is  hardly  kind  or  civil,  in  a 
large  company,  for  the  same  person  to  dance  every  consecutive 
set,  while  there  are  others  excluded  from  the  amusement  by  want 
of  room." 

"  Select  a  partner  for  me — will  you  not  ?"  asked  Mr.  Argyle. 

It  had  just  occurred  to  him  that  she  might  be  the  subject  of 
Invidious  remark  if  he  danced  with  no  one  else,  and  what  her  pica 
for  his  sister's  guests  could  not  effect  was  done  through  considera- 
tion for  her.  She  refused,  laughingly,  supposing  him  to  be  in  jest, 
until  convinced,  by  his  positive  manner,  of  his  indifference  to  the 
various  representatives  of  the  gentler  sex  present.  As  many 
married,  ?,.«  single  ladies  danced,  and  the  same  rule  applied  to 
gentleine*.  Mr.  Moreau  was  the  most  active  Terpsichorean  en 
the  floor  ;  Mr.  Carrington's  adipose  tendency  warned  him  not  to 
attempt  the  brisk  Scotch  reel ;  but  he  omitted  no  other  chance 
of  enjoying  himself  in  this  manner,  and  displayed  excellent  tas*e 
in  his  choice  of  pretty  partners.  His  wi*~  ~-!c  in  full  dress — 
rather  juvenile  for  her  matronly  pretensions  out  she  had  been  in- 
vited to  leave  her  seat  only  once,  in  the  foui  uances  which  had  al- 
ready been  performed.  She  appeared  dull — low-spirited — thought 
Katherine's  kind  heart,  and  she  pointed  out  to  Malcolm,  where 
she  sat,  by  Jessie,  whose  eyes  and  thoughts  were  all  for  the  par 
ticipants  in  the  exercise  from  which  her  ill-health  debarred  her. 

"  Most  of  the  younger  ladies  appear  to  be  provided  with  pait- 


N  E  M  E  8  I  fl  . 

uere  ;  but  perhaps  Mrs.  Carrington  would  like  to  dance.  Sh« 
seemed  fond  of  the  pastime,  I  thought.  She  stood  next  to  me 
in  one  set." 

Malcolm  started,  and  bent  a  searching  look  upon  her  ;  then,  aa- 
pared  by  her  ingenuous  countenance,  that  there  was  no  covert  sig- 
nificance in  her  selection,  he  obeyed  her  hint.  Mavcia  crimsoned 
painfully  at  his  invitation,  and  arising,  gave  hire  her  hand  with- 
out a  word.  Untrammelled  by  one  remaining  fetter  of  the  chains 
he  had  once  worn,  he  pitied  her,  in  the  calmer,  happier  mood, 
whose  dawning  was,  to  him,  like  the  commencement  of  another 
life,  and  he  endeavored  to  dispel  her  discomfort.  Conscious,  all 
the  while,  that  he  was  doing  a  thing  he  would  ridicule  on  the 
morrow,  and  even  while  he  did  it,  quarrelling  with  the  motives 
that  put  him  to  this  useless  trouble,  he  chatted  fluently  and  pleas- 
antly of  mutual  acquaintances  ;  items  of  neighborhood  news,  and 
other  topics  likely  to  interest  her.  His  charitable  labor  ended  by 
the  close  of  the  set,  he  re-conducted  Mrs.  Carrington  to  her  chair  ; 
talked  a  little  to  her  and  to  his  sister,  and  committed  himself  to 
the  crowd,  that  in  due  season,  cast  him  at  Miss  Rashleigh's  feet. 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  had  traversed  the  rooms  once  ;  submitted  to 
countless  introductions  ;  been  gazed  at  by  everybody — while  her 
proud,  still  face  gave  no  sign  that  she  took  particular  heed  of  any 
person  or  thing  there. 

"  Are  you  not  weary,  my  dear  madam  ?"  interrogated  the 
unxious  hostess. 

"  I  am  slightly  fatigued  !"  she  rejoined. 

"  Then,  let  me  entreat  you  to  take  this  chair.  I  hid  it  hi  the 
»ecess  on  purpose  that  you  might  not  want  for  a  resting-place." 

"  You  are  very  thoughtful,  madam  !"  said  the  gratified  Colonel 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  is  greatly  obliged  to  you." 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  coufirmed  his  statement  by  a  bow,  and  took  the 
designated  seat.  The  two  windows,  at  this  end  of  the  room,  were 
in  deep  embrasures,  formed  on  one  side,  by  the  jutting 


N  K  M  E  8  I  8 .  243 

»nd  by  tht  wall,  ou  the  other.  Both  recesses  were  profusely 
ornamented,  as  were  the  rest  of  the  doors  and  windows,  with  green 
boughs  and  flowers,  so  that  when  Mrs.  Rashleigh  entered  the 
retivat  prepared  for  her,  she  was  in  a  leafy  alcove,  whose  hang- 
ings screened  her  from  the  notice  of  the  throng,  without  obstruct 
iug  her  view  of  the  revellers.  The  Colonel,  satisfied  that  she  was 
established  in  the  ease  and  seclusion  she  loved,  willingly  acceded 
to  her  proposition  that  he  should  mingle,  and  make  acquaintance 
irith  his  neighbors.  And,  conspicuous  amidst  the  moving  forms, 
the  lady  descried  frequently,  his  portly  figure,  like  a  royal  scveirty- 
four,  with  the  king's  colors  flying  at  the  mast-head,  cleaving  the 
vari-colored  billows  that  heaved  against  him  on  every  side,  with- 
out altering  his  steady  course. 

Two  gentlemen  separated  themselves  from  the  denser  mass  of 
the  crowd,  and  drew  near  the  shaded  window.  They  were  Mr. 
Moreau  and  a  younger  man,  not  more  than  eight-aud-twenty,  pert 
in  physiognomy,  consequential  in  bearing  and  foppish  in  dress. 
He  smiled  incessantly  and  talked  rapidly. 

"  And  just  as  fortune  is  beaming  upon  you,  at  last,  you  turn 
saint  1"  were  the  first  words  Mrs.  Rashleigh  overheard. 

"  You  have  sharper  sight  than  mine,  if  you  can  see  any  Lght," 
rejoined  Mr.  Moreau,  discontentedly.  "  The  sky  is  as  black  as 
ink  to  me." 

"  Nonsense,  man.  What  more  would  you  have  ?  A  rich  uncle 
drops  down  out  of  the  clouds  at  your  door,  with  more  money  than 
he  can  possibly  dispose  of,  and  recognizes  you  as  the  male  heir  of 
his  line.  A  rich  brother-in-law  opens  his  heart  and  purse,  in  the 
hour  of  nee<?,  and  pays  up  to  the  last  farthing,  the  debt  that  you 
iwore  would  ruin  you,  and  neither  wife  nor  the  world  is  any  tiie 
wiser  for  your  temporary  difficulty.  You  are  unreasonable 
With  u  brace  of  such  backers,  you  may  dive  in  more  boldly  tliai 
De  fore." 

Mr.  Moreau  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


£44  N  K  M  E  8  I  8  . 

"  I  tell  yon,  San  croft,  I  have  bad  a  fright  that  Till  last  me  a 
life-time,  I  hope.  I  only  pray  that  I  may  be  safely  over  it." 

"  Oh,  if  you  have  taken  to  praying,  I  have  done  !  '  The  de'il 
gat  sick,  and  he  a  saint  wad  be  1'  I  shall  represent  your  case  at 
our  next  club  meeting." 

In  common  with  most  other  men  of  weak  minds  and  principles, 
M'oreau  was  nervously  sensitive  to  ridicule.  He  laughed,  in  a 
silly  way  :  "  It  behooves  every  prudent  man  to  look  to  the 
future,"  he  said,  confidentially.  "  You  set  a  right  estimate  upon 
*he  value  of  my  uncle's  purse  and  countenance.  Let  me  whisper 
Jo  you,  my  boy,  that  if  he  had  an  inkling  of  the  proceedings  in 
your  office-loft,  on  court-days  and  between^  times,  he  would  put 
me  out  of  his  house  and  will  forever.  He  is  crazy  on  this  subject. 
It  would  appear  that  this  little  weakness  of  mine  is  a  legacy  from 
some,  dead  and  gone  uncle,  who  blew  his  brains  out,  after  a  night 
of  unlucky  play.  His  brother  detests  tin  sight  of  a  card.  You 
must  have  observed  that  there  are  no  whist-tables  here,  to-night. 
The  old  Israelites  never  swept  the  house  of  leaven  more  anxiously 
than  did  my  wife  our  premises  of  cards,  the  day  she  was  instructed 
with  regard  to  this  foible  of  our  venerated  relative.  «I  must  be 
circumspect.  As  to  Argyle — that  door  is  barred,  bolted,  locked 
and  the  key  thrown  away  !  I  stretched  my  conscience  to  the 
utmost  hi  the  manufacture  of  the  story  that  got  me  that  cheque, 
and,  I  am  afraid,  his  credulity  into  the  bargain.  Then,  he  holda 
my  bond  " 

"  Pshaw  1  he.  won't  press  you  for  payment." 

"  Maybe   not  j   but    the   thought   that ,  I   am   in  his  power, 
aettles  me.     He  has  a  keen  eye  of  his  own,  that  goes  through 
fellow  like  a  knife.     Good  gracious  1"     Another  shrug.     "  No 
DO  !  I  can  squeeze  no  more  blood  out  of  that  turnip  !" 

"Very  well.  You  are  the  best  judge  of  your  affairs, 
and  what  is  the  safest  course  for  you  to  pursue.  Only,  the 
follows  will  be  disappointed  when  we  come  up  minus  a  hand 


NEMESIS.  243 

f  must  look  about  for  a  substitute.    What  a  lovely  girl  your 
cousin  is  1" 

A  restless  movement  of  the  unseen  listener  would  have  betrayed 
her  proximity,  but  for  the  music,  which  struck  up  a  lively  strain 
at  the  moment.  The  conclusion  of  the  remark  and  Mr.  Moreau's 
reply  were  rendered  inaudible  by  the  same  cause.  Mrs.  Rashleigh 
judged  them  to  have  been  a  request  for  an  introduction  to  her 
daughter,  and  an  acquiescence  on  the  part  of  the  host,  since  they 
proceeded  directly  toward  Katherine. 

Thus,  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  Malcolm  sought  the  spot 
where  he  had  left  Katherine,  in  the  chaperouagc  of  Mrs.  Holt,  he 
beheld  Saucroft,  jr.,  playing  the  fascinating  at  her  other  ear.  A 
dark  flush  crossed  the  face,  until  now  open  and  genial.  For  one 
second,  he  was  rooted  to  the  floor  with  indignation  ;  for  two 
more,  he  meditated  forfeiting  his  engagement  and  retiring  from 
the  house  that  afforded  shelter  to  one  he  loathed  as  the  basest  of 
noxious  things  ;  then  he  went  forward  and  reminded  Miss  Rash- 
leigh of  her  promise  for  the  following  set. 

A  lady  passed  in  between  them,  as  he  was  about  to  take  her  out. 

"  Mamma  1"  said  Katherine,  in  surprise.  "  Are  you  alone  ? 
"NVill  you  have  a  seat  ?  Here  is  mine  !"  springing  up. 

Her  mother  took  it.  "  Thank  you  1  Before  you  dance,  let 
Mrs.  Holt  loop  up  your  sleeve.  You  have  lost  a  knot  of  ribbon, 
I  see." 

The  gentlemen  instinctively  looked  about  under  their  feet  for 
the  missing  article,  and  as  Mrs.  Holt  adjusted  the  gauze  puffings, 
Mrs.  Rashleigh  said,  in  an  impressive  undertone — "  If  Mr.  Saii- 
croft  asks  you  to  dance,  refer  him  to  me." 

The  order  was  just  uttered,  when  the  anticipated  formula  wni 
conveyed  in  Mr.  Bancroft's  blandest  tones  and  choicest  phrase- 
ology. Katherine  blushed  with  bewilderment  and  fear  of  giving 
offence  to  the  "  friend  "  of  her  cousin,  for  such  were  the  terms  of7 
bis  presentation. 


+  IT  E  M  K  8  I  8 

"  Mamma,"  she  stammered,  imploringly 

"  I  object  to  her  taking  the  floor  again,  sir,  except  to  fulfil] 
engagements  already  formed." 

There  was  no  appeal  from  a  sentence  so  coldly  and  firmJy 
spoken.  Mr.  Bancroft  bowed  profoundly,  to  hide  his  vexation; 
Mr.  Argyle,  respectfully,  with  an  unconscious'  show  of  satisfaction, 
and  they  went  their  different  ways. 

"  Was  her  refusal  a  whim  or  over-prudence  for  her  daughter's 
health,  or  can  she  suspect  Sancroft's  real  character  ?•''  wondered 
Malcolm.  "  I  did  not  suppose  that  she  could  dissipate  my  unfa- 
vorable judgment  of  herself  with  so  brief  a  remark.  The  pre- 
sumptuous rascal  1"  He  ground  his  teeth.  "  Not  if  I  can  help 
it  1"  was  the  exclamation  they  hindered  from  the  hearing  of  those 
about  him. 

KatLerine  caught  the  ireful  gleam,  and  engaged  herself  in 
speculations  as  to  her  mother's  prohibition,  she  imagined  that  he 
must  be  pondering  upon  the  same. 

"  You  must  not  think  mamma  unreasonably  strict,"  she  said, 
timidly.  "  She  means  everything  for  my  good.  And,  if  she 
does  seem  too  particular  about  the  health  that  never  varies  from 
its  original  sound  state,  she  may  be  pardoned,  for  she  has  only  me 
to  care  for." 

"  She  is  judicious  Do  not  fancy  that  I  question  the  wisdom 
of  her  restriction  just  now.  No  gentleman  would." 

41  Do  you  imply  that  Mr.  Bancroft  may  feel  slighted  T'  inquired 
Katherine,  quickly. 

"  I  imply  nothing.  Rest  assured  thai  he  has  no  right  to  take 
umbrage  at  the  conduct  of  your  mother  or /yourself,  and  dismiss 
the  subject.  You  are  an  only  child,  then  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  have  never  had  either  sister  or  brother  1"  she 
sighed. 

"  And  you  long  for  them,  do  you  ?" 

"  Certainly.     How  can  \  help  it  ?     When  1  was  a  child   I 


N  E  M  K  B  I  8  ,  247 

often  wept  enviously  at  the  happiness  of  my  playfellow  B,  whc 
jrere  gathered  iuto  families,  while  I  was  all  alone." 

"  Had  you  been  situated  like  them  your  lot  might  have  been 
lens  happy  than  it  is  now.  Be  content  with  the  isolation  that 
excludes  bickerings  and  jealousies  and  feuds,  the  most  deadly  that 
rage  upon  earth." 

"  You  shock  me.  Can  you  mean  that  these  spring  up  between 
brother  and  brother  ?" 

"And  between  sisters  and  brothers.  If  there  be  unquenchable 
fire  in  this  life,  it  is  the  flame  of  family  dissension  ;  the  fierce 
scorchings  of  love  changed  to  hatred.  There  are  no  outward  pro- 
prieties to  be  overleaped  ;  no  forms  of  ceremonious  approach  to 
tear  away,  before  members  of  the  same  household  can  grapple  in 
combat ;  and  if  these  are  compelled  afterward  to  abide  together, 
the  continual  friction  of  angry  passions,  the  frequent  clashicgs  of 
interests  and  opinions,  perpetuate  the  warfare." 

"  Your  picture  is  a  dark  one  1  If  I  had  a  sister  I  should  not 
quarrel  with  her.  That  terrible  *  if  1'  How  grievously  it  inter- 
fered with  my  childish  dreams  of  how  my  twin-sister  and  I  would 
talk,  play,  study  and  love  together  !  No  one  suspected  my  folly  ; 
yet  half  of  my  wardrobe  was  allotted  to  her  ;  our  baby-house  was 
common  property,  and  three  of  the  six  shelves  in  the  nursery  book- 
case belonged  to  her.  I  actually  almost  deluded  myself  into  the 
belief  that  she  was  a  living  personage.  '  Bessie  is  out  walking  !' 
I  would  say  to  myself,  when  I  was  alone  in  the  play-room.  And, 
as  the  time  wore  on,  I  amused  myself  and  fed  my  heart  by  think- 
ii'ii1  Low  she  would  dance  into  the  room,  dressed  in  such  and 
such  a  manner,  and  shout  gaily  as  I  ran  up  to  kiss  her.  Tho 
Ehout  and  the  kiss  have  never  come  !  jind  I  have  out-grown  such 
vivid  day-dreams  ;  yet  I  am  neither  too  old  nor  too  wise  to  cease 
wishing  that  Bessie  were  with  me  in  every  pleasure  or  sorrow." 

"  Why  did  you  call  her  Bessy  ?" 

"  I  liked  the  name.     I  picked  it  up  somewhere  in  my  infancy 


£48  N  E  M  E  8  I  fl  . 

Mrs.  Holt  says  that  I  probably  had  a  nurse  who  was  called  so, 
and  who  abbreviated  Katherine  into  '  Kitty,'  which  neither  papa 
nor  mamma  will  allow  now.  I  am  much  attached  to  both  ..ames. 
What  is  the  matter,  Mr.  Argyle  ?" 

"  Were  you  born  in  England  ?"  demanded  he,  controlling  him- 
self. 

"  I  was — in  Devonshire.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"I  am  a  fitful,  fanciful  creature,"  he  answered,  hiding  hia 
chagrin  by  a  laugh.  "  I  once  knew  a  Bessy  and  a  Kitty,  whom 
I  loved  very  dearly,  but  whom  I  lost  years  ago.  I  was  struck 
by  the  similarity  of  our  taste  for  names.  I  have  visited  Devon- 
shire" 

"  Which  I  have  never  done  since  I  was  a  babe,  at  which  tune 
papa  removed  from  the  country." 

"  I  was  there  in  1800." 

"  We  were  hi  Paris  then,  I  imagine,  for  we  spent  several  years 
abroad  about  that  time.  I  have  still  the  French  primer  in  which 
I  studied,  with  an  inscription  of  my  composition  scrawled  in  great 
letters  on  the  fly-leaf :  '  Katherine  Rashldgh,  Anglaise,  Paris, 
Mai  dixieme,  1802.'  You  perceive  that  I  vaunted  my  nationality 
at  that  tender  age." 

"  Yet  your  patriotism  should  be  of  the  most  liberal  kind.  Bora 
in  England,  partly  educated  in  France,  and  now  a  resident  of 
America  1  For  your  years  you  are  the  most  thorough  cosmo- 
politan I  ever  saw." 

"  Young  trees  bear  trasplanting  best,"  she  replied,  in  as  light 
»  strain.  "  Is  not  that  Mr.  Sancroffc  talking  with  papa  ?" 

"  It  is." 

"  He  is  not  mortally  offended,  then." 

Her  partner  was  not  very  far  from  this  point,  however.  The 
Colonel,  like  a  peaceably-disposed  bull-dog,  eyed,  over  his  double 
chin,  the  sleek  puppy  that  barked  for  his  entertainment  ;  how 
fawningly,  Malcolm  well  knew,  and  would,  at  that  moment,  hav« 


NEMESIS.  24  9 

relinquished  a  quarter  of  his  estate  for  the  privilege  of  lifting  him, 
by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  to  the  nearest  window,  and  dropping  him 
out. 

And,  embosoming  these  varied  and  momentous  emotions  ; 
these  plots  and  counterplots  ;  these  memories  and  hopes,  the 
laughing,  talking  crowd  rolled  back  and  forth,  as  rocks  the  sum- 
mer sea,  with  its  treasures  of  beauty  and  secrets  of  woe  and 
terror,  hidden  under  tne  sportsome  ware. 


25C  NEMESIS, 


CHAPTER  XV11L 

"  WHERZ  are  you  going  so  early,  mamma  ?"  inquired  Katherme, 
one  morning  at  the  breakfast-table.  "  I  saw  them  getting  th« 
carriage  out  before  I  came  downstairs." 

•'  Your  father  intends  using  it,  not  I,"  replied  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

"  It  is  court-day,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  That  tiresome  court-day  !"  uttered  Katherine,  impatiently. 
"  It  seems  to  me  that  it  comes  round  every  week  instead  of  once 
a  month.  What  do  they  do  there,  papa  ?  Is  it  anything  like 
the  assizes  in  England  ?  And  do  the  proceedings  really  interest 
you  ?" 

"  My  dear  !  one  question  at  a  time  1"  gently  rebuked  Mrs. 
Holt. 

"Well,  then,  papa,  why  does  every  man  and  "boy  in  the  county 
attend  court  every  month  ?" 

"  These  '  court-days '  are  to  me  a  re-mar-ka-ble  and  interesting 
feature  in  the  society  and  government  of  this  State,"  said  Colonel 
Rashleigh,  addressing  himself  to  the  round  of  cold  beef  in  front 
)f  him,  and  suspending  the  business  of  breakfast,  that  he  might 
properly  elucidate  the  subject.  "A  large  concourse  of  people 
of  all  grades  of  social  distinction,  wealth  and  professions — as  you, 
my  daughter,  well  observe,  old  and  young  ;  the  middle-aged  and 
the  child  repair  thither, -with  a  regularity  and  promptness  that 
Bhow  how  they  prize  these  occasions.  Not  only  the  court-house 
itself — an  insignificant  building,  allow  me  to  remark."  The  beef 
making  no  objection,  he  resumed,  after  a  pause  :  "  I  am  lailj 


NEMESIS.  251 

more  and  more  displeased  with  the  crude  and  low  state  of  archi 
tecture  prevalent  among  this  population.  The  building  is  incom- 
modious— positively  mean  P  pausing  again,  with  his  condemnatory 
uod.  "  Entirely  unsuitable  for  the  purpose  to  which  it  is  dedi 
cated.  It  is  crowded  .to  excess,  and  upon  the  inclosed  green 
surrounding  it,  the  press  is  equally  great.  It  is  a  phenomenon  in 
social  and  civil  life — a  re-mar-ka-ble  thing  I" 

"  But  what  do  all  these  people  go  there  for,  sir  ?"  persisted' the 
laughing  Katherine,  seeing  that  he  believed  that  he  had  disposed 
of  her  query.  "  There  must  be  a  vast  amount  of  litigation  hi  thia 
free  and  happy  Union,  if  legal  business  is  the  great  attraction." 

The  Colonel  looked  surprised  at  the  reiteration.  He  could  not 
chide  her  ;  yet  he  would  have  been  "  displeased  n  with  such  slow- 
ness of  apprehension  in  any  other  person. 

"  I  J,hought  I  had  explained  to  you,  my  child,  that  there  were 
trasactions  of  many  kinds  carried  on  in  these  assemblages.  They 
assume  different  phases  at  different  times  ;  political,  commercial, 
litigious  and  friendly.  In  Great  Britain  \,hey  have  no  popular 
gatherings  that  correspond  with  these  hi  frequency  and  enthusiasm. 
My  dear,  my  coffee  is  cold  !  May  I  trouble  you  for  another  cup  ? 
The  carriage  is  ready,  did  you  say,  Thomas  ?  Very  well, 
Thomas  I" 

Not  even  the  indulged  child  was  to  interrogate  him  further. 
He  buttoned  up  his  snrtout,  hot  as  was  the  day  ;  grasped  hia 
thick,  gold-headed  cane,  and  marched  off  to  the  coach-and-four  in 
waiting  for  him. 

"  Mrs.  Holt  I"  said  Katherine,  with  a  mixture  of  archness  and 
perplexity.  "  Have  you  any  idea  what  these  court-days  are  ?" 

"  My  impression  is,  my  dear  Miss  Rashleigh — derived  from 
Colonel  Rashleigh's  graphic  description — that  they  are  a  species 
of  minor  Assizes." 

mliimiiti  flu-  several  characters  of  the  English  hustings,  the 
Irish  fairs  and  :ht-  Se-otti-h  family  try<t<  !"  subjoined  h*>r  pupil. 


252  N  E  M  K  8  I  8  . 

She  would  have  been  incredulous  had  she  been  told  how  trua 
to  the  life,  was  the  picture  she  meant  to  be  a  caricature. 

The  small  village  was  but  little  larger  than  it  had  been  twelve 
years  before,  and  to-day  was  swallowed  up  by  the  crowd  of  men, 
vehicles  and  cattle.  Droves  of  sheep,  oxen  and  mules  rent  the 
air  with  discord,  and  wandered  blindly,  in  their  fright,  into  by- 
lanes  and  house-jards — everywhere  except  in  the  appointed  way, 
which  was  to  make  for  themselves  a  passage  through  the  living 
sea,  surging  in  the  crooked  road,  yclept,  by  courtesy,  a  street.  For 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  along  each  approach  to  the  village,  horsea 
were  picketed  in  the  corners  of  the  fences  or  tied  to  the  trees, 
many  of  them  with  a  basket  or  a  loose  heap  of  provender  placed 
before  them,  that  they  might  consult  their  own  convenience  as  to 
dinner-time.  Vehicles  of  every  pattern  under  £he  sun,  from  the 
two-wheeled  "  tumbler  cart,"  with  its  shake  down  of  straw  in  the 
bottom,  to  the  massive,  handsome  chariot  from  Briarwood,  jolted 
and  rolled  over  the  highway. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  never  designed  to  make  an  offensive  show 
of  personal  importance.  The  idea,  that,  by  following  out  the 
dictates  of  a  pompous  taste,  and  continuing  in  his  present  loca- 
tion, the  state  and  circumstance  he  had  been  accustomed  to  prac- 
tise at  home,  he  might  offend,  instead  of  render  respectful  hia 
republican  neighbors,  would  have  appeared  preposterous  to  him 
He  had  been  the  great  man  of  a  retired  country  district  in  Eng- 
•  land,  and  without  debating  the  case,  either  with  himself  or  with 
others,  who  might  have  bestowed  a  salutary  caution,  he  counted 
confidently  upon  taking  the  like  stand  here.  So,  as  his  blooded 
leaders  tossed  their  heads  and  champed  the  bit,  that  restrained 
their  high  step  to  a  slow  walk,  through  the  blocked-up  thorough- 
fare, he  sat,  serene  in  self-consequence,  surveying,  with  the  interest 
of  a  philosopher,  the  "  social  phenomenon,"  that  had  constituted 
the  theme  of  his  breakfast-harangue —  feeling  the  angry  and  jeal- 
ous glances  shot  at  him,  from  time  to  time,  about  as  much  as  a 


NEMESIS.  253 

rhinoceros  would   arrows   from  a  child's   bow,  as   they  rattled 
against  his  hide. 

Alighting,  with  the  assistance  of  his  footman,  upon  the  wooden 
steps  of  the  tavern,  he  was  met  by  his  nephew,  and  the  youngef 
Saucroft. 

"  I  have  been  on  the  watch  for  you,  this  hour,"  said  the  former. 
'  Both  speakers  are  here,  and  as  yon  perceive,  so  are  the  hearers." 

"  A  remarkable  spectacle,  indeed  1"  observed  the  Colonel,  help- 
ing himself  to  a  pinch  of  snuff,  as  he  overlooked  the  agitated 
human  stream  rushing  and  roaring  toward  the  court-green. 
"  This  is  a  very  demonstrative — I  should  say,  a  remarkably  exci- 
table population,  Mr.  Bancroft.  One  would  imagine  that  there 
was  some  unusual  event  in  prospect." 

"Why,  my  dear  sir  1"  exclaimed  Mr.  Moreau.  "Have  you 
forgotten  that  we  are  to  be  addressed  to-day  by  the  candidates 
for  this  congressional  district  ?" 

"  I  remember  perfectly,"  answered  the  Colonel,  tapping  the 
gold  lid  with  a  coolness  that  irritated  the  heated  spirit  of  his 
nephew  almost  beyond  control.  "  But  I  had  supposed  that  elec- 
tions were  very  orderly  scenes  in  the  United.  Colonies — I  would 
say,  States." 

„ "  They  may  be  generally,  but  there  are  immense  issues  at  stake 
now,  sir,"  replied  the  smiling  Bancroft.  "  If  you  will  trust  your- 
self to  my  guidance,  I  will  endeavor  to  place  you  in  a  position 
where  you  can  form  your  own  judgment  as  to  our  native  orators. 
I  do  not  promise  you  the  finished  eloquence  of  your  British  parlia- 
ment— neither  a  Chatham  nor  a  Fox — but  you  will  bear  in  mind, 
if  >ou  please,  that  we  are  yet  in  our  infancy." 

He  fastened  himself  to  one  arm  of  the  Colonel  ;  and  Moreau 
took  the  other,  and  by  pushing  and  sidling,  undertook  to  tow  him 
through  the   breakers.     Very  unaccommodating   breakers    they 
were  1     In  spite  of  his  protectors'  efforts,  more  than  one  deraocra 
tie  elbow  was  jerked  into  the  Colonel's  back  and  client,  '-vitli 


254  NEMESIS. 

concussion  that  made  bin:  gasp  and  gurgle,  and  deepened  hia 
florid  complexion  to  purple  ;  more  than  one  hob-nailed  heel  left 
its  imprint  upon  his  gouty  foot.  Finally,  he  was  intrenched  from 
such  assaults,  in  an  angle,  formed  by  the  courthouse  steps  with 
the  wallj'and  his  pilots,  perspiring  and  breathless,  took  off  their 
hats  to  wipe  their  streaming  brows. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  uncle  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Morearu 

"  As  well  as  1  cau  «*»,  after  the  ordeal  I  have  sustained, 
replied  the  Colonel,  in  offended  dignity. 

He  would  have  added  some  strictures  upon  his  initiative  experi- 
ence in  republican  usage  ;  but  was  prevented  by  a  vociferous 
cheer,  that  arose  from  the  throng  as  from  the  throat  of  one  man. 
Obeying  the  direction  of  all  eyes,  Colonel  Rashleigh  shifted  his 
position  to  gain  a  view  of  the  upper  step  against-  which  he  had 
been  leaning,  and  beheld,  almost  within  arm's  length  of  him,  one 
of  the  rival  speakers  of  the  day. 

He  was  a  man  in  the  prune  of  life,  with  a  steady,  far-seeing 
eye,  and  a  countenance  as  resolute  as  his  mien  was  courteous. 
The  distinguished  leader  of  the  party  he  represented,  and  rendered 
fearless  by  past  successes,  he  was  yet  to  fight  to-day,  upon  an 
untried  field  ;  to  couch  lance  against  an  adversary,  than  whom 
the  country  held  none  more  formidable  ;  one  who,  dasliing  like  a 
comet  into  the  political  firmament,  had  caused  congresses  and 
Administrations  to  quail  at  his  terrific  splendor  ;  who  swayed  the 
hearts  and  opinions  of  audiences  with  a  single  sweep  of  his  finger; 
the  hitherto  invincible  conqueror  of  every  opponent  who  had  the 
daring  or  presumption  to  meet  him  in  the  district  he  arrogated  as 
his  peculiar  dominion.  Whatever,  at  this  remote  period,  may  be 
thought  of  the  justice  of  his  cause,  the  courage  of  the  man  who 
now  stood  gallantly  forth  to  battle  with  the  Achilles,  deserves 
our  honorable  mention. 

His  exordium  was  studiedly  dispassionate.  He  sketched,  with 
ft  free,  bold  touch,  the  main  outlines  of  the  history  of  colonial 


NEMESIS.  255 

wrongs  under  foreign  oppression  ;  the  revolt ;  tLe  declaration  of 
independence,  and  the  struggle  that  secured  it  ;  the  treacherous 
»n  the  side  of  the  mother-country,  and  the  confiding  trust 
of  the  emancipated  daughter  ;  the  tricks,  the  subterfuges,  the 
oTert  and  unatoned-for  outrages  of  which  the  stronger  natiou 
HUiod  C'Hivictcd;  the  stagnation  of  commerce;  the  stint  in  money 
and  the  very  necessaries  of  life,  to  which  the  people  of  the  still 
fed  tie  republic  had  been  subjected  by  the  odious  policy  of  her 
ancient  enemy.  lie  painted  her  a  crafty,  bloated  spider,  watch- 
ing her  unwary  prey;  weaving  here  a  line — casting  there  a  noose 
— biding,  with  gloating  eyes,  the  season  when,  exhausted  and 
paralyzed,  the  victim  should  be  hers,  without  a  hope  of  release. 

He  was  warming  with  his  theme,  and  his  audience  heard  him 
with  tightening  breath  and  clenching  fists.  By  a  skillful  transi- 
tion, he  brought  before  them,  in  glowing  contrast,  the  different 
course  of  another  government ;  the  France,  which  had  lighted  the 
torch  of  liberty  at  the  altar  of  the  western  world  ;  the  blood  of 
whose  nobles  had  dyed  the  battle-fields  of  our  own  land;  the  nation 
whose  hail  of  "  God  speed  1"  had  not,  from  the  moment  she 
heard  the  cry  of  our  fainting  armies,  ceased  to  sound  across  the 
waters  that  separated  her  shores  from  ours.  He  reminded  them 
that  the  wonderful  man,  who  now  held  the  balance  of  her  power, 
bore  the  same  emblem  upon  his  imperial  standard  as  that  which 
guarded  our  national  ensign,  and,  as  if  he  recognized  a  bond  of 
relationship  in  this  coincidence,  his  friendly  feelings  for  the  State* 
had^ever  been  unequivocally  manifested.  The  banners  of  France 
had  been  draped  in  mourning  for  the  death  of  America's  deliverer, 
Rnd  his  character  was  cherished  in  holy  esteem  by  that  people. 
Coming  down  to  the  present  day  ;  taking  up  the  immediate  ques- 
tion at  issue,  he  showed  how  France  had,  at  the  appeal  of  Ame- 
rica.— impoverished  and  distressed  by  the  edicts  and 'orders  in 
council  of  the  belligerent  powers — generously  revoked  Those 

iiie   Hell'  i  -f  lli4 


256  NEMESIS. 

innocent  eufferer  was  violated  ;  then,  indignantly  opposed  to  this, 
the  stubbornness,  the  greed,  the  malignity  of  Great  Britain,  in 
withholding  the  concession  for  which  many  thousands  of  her  own 
subjects  were  petitioning.  This  was  the  virtual  point  at  stake,  he 
said — an  ignominious  and  ruinous  peace,  or  courageous  warfare 
with  the  despot,  -whose  milder  yoke  their  fathers  had  torn  from 
the  necks  of  freemen.  Politicians  might  mystify  voters  with  words 
without  meaning  ;  electrify  by  flights  of  stirring  eloquence  ;  quiet 
with  false  assurances  of  peace  and  safety,  and  mislead  their  minda 
to  dwell  upon  subordinate  themes  ;  but  here  lay  the  truth — and  in 
truth  and  soberness,  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  he  had  dragged  it  to 
the  light  and  spread  it  before  them. 

He  ceased  ;  and  from  the  heart  of  the  throng  went  up  a  mad 
roar,  like  the  bellow  of  an  angry  Vesuvius. 

"Free  trade  and  sailors'  rights  I  Free  trade  and  sailors 
rights  1" 

"Eppes  forever  1" 

"  Down  with  the  aristocrats  !" 

''  Destruction  to  the  British  everywhere  1" 

"  Robert,  what  did  that  fellow  say  ?"  called  Colonel  Rashleigh, 
into  his  nephew's  ear,  and  pointing  with  a  cane  shaking  iu  his  dis- 
pleasure, at  a  man  who  was  pealing  this  last  cry. 

"  Never  mind  him,  uncle!     He  is  crazy  or  drunk." 

"  I  am  displeased  by  his  behavior,  Robert.  It  is  highly  dis- 
respectful and  unbecoming  I" 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  I  shut  his  mouth,  or  he  will,  be  mobbed!" 
said  Bancroft,  apart  to  his  friend.  "  These  creatures  are  ready 
for  anything.  They  will  never  hear  Randolph,  I  am  afraid." 

The  statesman  had  a  juster  appreciation  of  his  influence  over 
his  former  constituents.  He  had  been  their  glory  too  long  to  be 
slighted  even  in  the  hour  when  passion  was  lashing  patriotism 
into  fury. 

The  roar  became  a  murmur — the    mirmnr  died  hoarsely  awaf 


W  E  M  E  8  I  8.  257 

into  stillness,  when  he  mounted  the  rude  rostrum,  ana  stretched 
his  long  right  arm  toward  Heaven — it  might  be  to  enjoin  silence 
— it  seemed  an  appeal  to  the  Supreme  Judge  to  prove  the  sincer 
ity  of  his  address,  the  purity  of  his  intentions.  Tall,  and  thin  to 
attenuation  ;  his  beardless  face  cadaverous  as  that  of  a  corpse ; 
an  age  of  carking  care  and  anguish  stamped  upon  features,  over 
which  forty  years  of  real  life  had  not  passed — he  stood  thus  for  a 
moment,  waiting  to  be  heard — the  supernatural  glow  in  his  deep, 
dark  eye  alone  evincing  the  ardor  with  which  his  mettled  spirit 
flung  itself  into  the  arena  of  conflict.  His  voice,  when  he  parted 
the  livid  lips  to  speak,  sounded  hardly  louder  than  the  sighing  of 
the  summer  air  through  the  trees  shading  the  multitude  ;  yet 
every  syllable  was  distinctly  audible  upon  the  outskirts  of  the 
throng.  Soft,  sweet,  susceptible  to  the  slightest  variation  of 
emotion  as  a  woman's — it  rose  and  swelled  into  clarion  strength 
and  resonance  as  he  proceeded.  Some  of  his  earlier  periods,  tho 
caustic  and  inimitable  irony  with  which  he  assailed  his  opponent ; 
his  allusion  to  past  services  as  a  guaranty  of  future  fidelity,  were 
cheered  by  his  adherents  ;  but  as  he  entered  upon  the  discussion 
of  the  main  subject,  the  interest  was  too  rapt  for  noisy  demonstra- 
tidn.  Men  lost  all  sense  of  individuality  ;  knew  not  whether 
they  stood  or  breathed — only  that  they  saw  and  heard,  and  no 
one  looked  at  his  neighbor  to  note  the  effect  of  the  torrent  that 
carried  him  along  withersoever  the  magician  listed. 

Personal  enemies  he  had  many,  in  the  assemblage.  No  man 
of  his  day  had  more,  and  their  virulence  was  commensurate  with 
the  insults  he  had  heaped  upon  them.  Venomous,  unscrupulous 
and  irreconcilable — these  were  traits  whose  possession  he  never 
denied,  and  which  his  eulogists  vainly  strove  to  cloak  under  the 
convenient  names  of  eccentricity  and  morbid  irritability.  But 
however  obnoxious  he  might  be  in  private  life,  the  most  bitter  foa 
there  dared  not  cast  a  stone  at  his  political  honesty.  Mistaken  he 
Alight  be  ;  impetuous  und  hcad-strong  lie  was — spurning-  ii'l*1.* 


b  NEMESIS. 

ference  and  resenting  censure  ;  but,  before  deceiving  others,  he 
must  be  thoroughly  deceived  himself.  No  glittering  pledge  of 
preferment,  no  threats  of  public  disgrace  or  popular  defeat,  could 
allure  or  intimidate  him  to  barter  or  compromise  his  principles, 
On  this  occasion,  he  knew  full  well  that  his  was  the  unpopular 
side  of  the  question  then  agitating  the  country  to  its  foundations. 
He  saw  before  him  a  populace,  smarting  under  private  losses  and 
privations,  as  well  as  national  indignities.  In  the  breasts  of  the 
young  burned  the  desire  for  vengeance  and  conquest ;  the  veina 
of  the  old  were  scarcely  cooled  after  the  hot  struggle  of  the  Revo- 
lution  ;  while  men  of  deliberative  middle  age  looked  to  the 
suggested  war  as  a  preferable  alternative  to  the  paralysis  of  trade 
and  impure  fermeutings  of  the  mass,  in  which  such  dangerous  ele- 
ments were  working. 

Yet  he  controlled  all ;  and  the  mastery  gained — while  he  spoke, 
his  thoughts  were  theirs  ;  his  declarations  the  proclamation  of 
one  inspired  with  more  than  mortal  wisdom.  The  lungs  that 
had  raised  the  cry — "  Destruction  to  the  British  1"  heaved  with 
answering  animation  to  his  vindication-  of  the  slandered  mother- 
land. The  fiery  youth  who  beheld  in  the  French  conqueror  the 
apotheosis  of  human  greatness — the  sublime  realization  of  his 
dream  of  the  self-made  man — felt  his  lip  curl  sympathetically  at 
the  withering  denunciation  of  his  hero. 

"  Why  this  unnatural  hatred  of  England  ?  Strange  !  that  we 
should  have  no  objection  to  any  other  people  or  government,  in 
civilized  or  savage  countries — in  the  whole  world  !  The  great 
autocrat  of  all  the  Russias  receives  the  homage  of  our  high 
consideration  ;  the  Dey  of  Algiers  and  his  divan  of  pirates  are 
rery  civil,  good  sort  of  people,  with  whom  we  find  no  difficulty 
in  maintaining  the  relations  of  peace  and  amity ;  '  Turks,  Jews  and 
infidels  ;'  barbarians  and  savages  of  every  clime  and  color,  are 
welcome  to  our  arms  ;  with  chiefs  of  banditti,  negro  or  mulatto, 
we  can  treat  and  we  can  trade.  K;;aie,  however,  but  England; 


V  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  259 

and  all  oar  antipathies  are  up  in  arms  against  nor.  Against 
wLtom  ?  Against  those  whose  blood  runs  in  our  owi  veins  ; 
hi  common  with  whom  we  can  slaini  Shakspeare  and  Newton 
and  Chatham  for  our  countrymen  ;  whose  form  of  government  \i 
tl'i  freest  on  earth,  our  own  only  exeepted  ;  from  whom  evei  f 
faluable  principle  of  our  own  institutions  has  been  borrowed;  our 
whole  civil  and  criminal  jurisprudence  ;  against  our  fellow  Pro- 
testants!  identiGed  in  blood,  in  language,  in  religion,  with  our- 
selves. In  what  school  did  the  worthies  of  our  land — the  Wa.-li- 
ingtous,  Henrys,  Hancocks,  Franklins,  the  Rutledges  of  America, 
learn  those  principles  of  civil  liberty  which  w^re  so  nobly  asserted 
by  their  wisdom  and  valor  ?  And  American  resistance  to  British 
usurpation  had  not  been  more  warmly  cherished  by  these  good 
men  and  their  compatriots  ;  not  more  by  Washington,  Hancock 
and  Henry,  than  by  Chatham  and  his  illustrious  associates  in  the 
British  Parliament.  And  let  it  be  remembered  that  the  heart  of 
the  British  people  was  with  us.  .  .  .  . 

"  But  the  '  outrages  and  injuries '  of  England !  Bred  up  in  the 
principles  of  the  Revolution,  /  can  never  palliate,  much  less 
defend  them.  I  well  remember  flying  with  my  mother  and  her 
new-born  child,  from  Arnold  and  Phillips  ;  and  they  had  been 
driven  by  Tarleton  and  other  British  Pandoors,  from  pillar  to 
post,  while  her  husband  was  fighting  the  battles  of  his  country. 
The  impression  is  indelible  on  my  memory,  and  yet  (like  my 
ivorthy  old  neighbor,  who  added  seven  buckshot  to  every  car- 
tridge, at  the  battle  of  Guilford,  and  drew  a  fine  sight  at  his  man), 
I  must  be  content  to  be  called  a  tory  by  a  patriot  of  the  latest 
Importation  !  Let  us  not  get  rid  of  one  evil,  supposing  it  possible, 
at  the  expense  of  a  greater.  Suppose  France  in  possession  of  th« 
British  naval  power,  and  to  her  the  trident  must  pass,  should 
England  be  nimble  wield  it — what  would  be  your  condition ! 
What  would  be  the  situation  of  your  sea-ports,  and  their  sea 
faring  inhabitants  ?  Ask  Hamburg,  ask  Lubec,  ask  Savanna t 


260  N  K  M  E  8  I  8  . 

When  their  privateers  are  pent  up  in  our  harbors  by  the  British 
bull-dogs,  when  they  receive  at  our  hands  every  rite  of  hospitality, 
from  which  their  enemy  is  excluded  ;  when  they  capture,  within 
our  waters,  interdicted  to  British  armed  ships,  American  vessels  $ 
when  such  is  their  deportment  to  you,  under  such  circumstances, 
what  could  you  expect  if  they  were  the  uncontrolled  lords  of  the 
Ocean  ?  Had  those  privateers  at  Savannah  borne  British  com- 
missions, or  had  American  shipments  of  cotton,  tobacco,  ashes, 
and  what  not,  to  London  and  Liverpool,  been  confiscated  and 
the  proceeds  poured  into  the  English  exchequer,  my  life  upon  it  I 
you  would  never  have  listened  to  any  miserable  wire-drawn 
distinctions  between  '  orders  and  decrees  affecting  our  neutral 
rights '  and  '  municipal  decrees '  confiscating  in  mass  your  whole 
property  !  You  would  have  had  instant  war  !  The  whole  land 
would  have  blazed  in  war  ! 

"  And  shall  Republicans  become  the  instruments  of  him  who 
has  effaced  the  title  of  Attila  to  the  '  SCOURGE  OF  GOD  ?'  Yet, 
even  Attila,  in  the  falling  fortunes  of  civilization,  had,  no  doubt,' 
his  advocates,  his  tools,  his  minions,  his  parasites,  in  the  very 
countries  that  he  overran — sons  of  that  soil  whereon  his  horse 
had  trod — where  grass  could  never  afterward  grow.  Would  that 
1  could  give  utterance  to  the  strong  detestation  which  I  feel 
toward  (above  all  other  works  of  the  Creation)  such  characters 
as  Zingis,  Tamerlane,  Kouli  Khan,  or  BONAPARTE  !  My  instincts 
involuntarily  revolt  at  their  bare  idea — malefactors  of  the  human 
race,  who  ground  down  man  to  a  mere  machine  of  their  impious 
and  bloody  ambition.  Yet,  under  the  accumulated  wrongs  and 
insults  and  robberies  of  the  last  of  these  chieftains,  are  we  not,  hi 
point  of  fact,  striving  to  become  a  party  to  his  views — a  partner 
in  his  wars  ?  Is  it  so,  then,  that  the  last  Republic  of  the  earth 
must  enlist  under  the  banners  of  the  tyrant  ?  Must  the  blood  of 
American  freemen  flow  to  cement  his  power — to  aid  in  stifling  the 
last  struggles  of  afflicted  and  persecuted  man — to  deliver  up  into 


N   K  M   K  8  I  6  .  261 

his  bauds  the  patriots  of  Spaiu  and  Portugal — to  establish  his 
empire  over  the  ocean,  and  over  the  laud  that  gave  oar  fathers 
_  birth — to  forge  our  own  chains  ! 

"  And  yet,  my  friends,  we  are  told,  as  we  were  told,  iu  the 
days  ot'  Mr  Ada:usf  'the  finger  of  Heaven  points  to  war? 
Ves  !  the  finger  of  Heaven  does  point  to  war  !  It  points  to 
war,  as  it  points  to  the  mansions  of  eternal  misery  and  torture  ; 
as  a  flaming  beacon,  warning  us  of  that  vortex  which  we  may 
not  approach,  but  with'ccrtain  destruction.  It  points  to  deso- 
lated Europe,  and  warns  us  of  the  chastisement  of  those 
nations  who  have  offended-  against  the  justice,  and  almost 
beyond  the  mercy  of  Heaven.  It  announces  the  wrath  to  oorne 
upon  those,  who,  ungrateful  for  the  bounty  of  Providence.,  not 
satisfied  with  the  peace,  security  and  plenty  at  horn?,  fly,  as 
it  were,  into  the  face  of  the  Most  High,  and  tempt  His  for- 
bearance 1" 

For  two  hours,  not  a  man  stirred  from  his  place,  or  raised 
hand  or  voice  to  interrupt  the  fiery  torrent  that  broke  over  the 
multitude,  with  the  might  and  fury  of  a  mountain  flood.  The 
thrilling  tones  ceased  to  be  heard;  the  weird-like  visage  no  lon- 
ger flashed  its  lightnings  among  them  ;  the  shadowy  form 
§wayed  no  more  in  their  sight,  at  the  will  of  the  potent  spirit 
within  it,  and  instead  of  the  clamorous  outburst  that  had  marked 
the  close  of  hjg  opponent's  peroration,  there  was  a  deep-drawn 
sigh,  from  a  thousand  bosoms,  such  as  men  heave  when  the  rum- 
bio,  the  shaking^aud  the  crash  of  the  earthquake  have  passed, 
and  they  wonder  at  the  life  it  has  spared  to  them. 

"  A  remarkable  speaker  !"  said  Colonel  Rashleigh,  regaining 
his  breath  with  a  stertorous  effort.  "  I  should  like  to  make  hia 
acquaintance.  A  man  of  sound  views  and  re-mar-ka-ble  endow- 
ments 1  If  perfectly  agreaUe  to  him  and  to  yourself,  Robert,  I 
ehall  b<)  pleased,  if  you  can  introduce  me,  in  the  course  of  thi 
day.  As  a  Briton,  I  desire  to  express  my  approval  of  ais  sent* 


262  NEMESIS. 

meuts  with  'egard  to  that  country,  likewise  of  the  masterlj  styit) 
in  which  he  exposed  and  condemned  the  intrigues  and  outrages 
of  that  low-born  upstart,  who  calls  himself  the  Drench 
Emperor." 

The  idea  of  the  Colonel's  contemplated  patronage  of  ths 
haughty  and  sarcastic  Randolph  was  too  much  for  Bancroft's 
risibles,  He  fell  into  the  rear  to  indulge  his  merriment,  whilo 
Moreau  could  not  refrain  from  smiling. 

"  If  it  can  be  brought  about,  I  will  certainly  comply  with  your 
request,  sir  ;  I  think,  however,  that  Mr.  Randolph  will  not  remain 
in  the  place  to  dinner.  He  detests  public  tables." 

The  words  were  not  off  his  tongue,  when  the  crowds  wending 
their  way  to  the  principal  house  of  entertainment,  parted  to  the 
sides  of  the  road,  and  between  the  divided  ranks,  drove  a  light 
phaeton,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  magnificent  blood-horses,  groomed 
with  a  nicety,  that  made  their  coats  shine  with  silken  lustre,  and 
stepping  like  cats,  their  dainty  hoofs  hardly  touching  the  earth. 
The  master  had  the  reins  and  was  the  sole  occupant  of  the  car. 
riage  Pale,  joyless,  alone — his  dark  eye  held  no  ray  of  triumph, 
his  sallow  cheek  bore  no  trace  of  the  emotions  that  had  so  lately 
stirred  mightily  in  his  soul.  Neither  in  his  sardonic,  yet  mourn- 
ful physiognomy,  nor  in  his  bearing,  that  had  even  something  of 
defiance  mixed  with  its  hauteur,  was  there  discernible  a  trait  of 
the  popular  leader.  What  other  politicians  sought  to  gain  by 
urbanity  and  flatteries,  he  demanded  from  men  as  the  tribute  they 
owed  to  the  riglxt  of  his  cause.  Petty  arts  he  disdained,  and 
trampled  under  foot  the  amenities  and  courtesies  that  are  com- 
monly esteemed  powerful  engines  with  the  masses. 

This  was  the  man,  who,  with-  the  exception  of  one  brief  inter- 
regnum— and  that  caused  by  the  very  elements  that  were  now 
at  work  throughout  the  country — remained,  for  upward  of  thirt} 
years,  the  representative  )f  an  intelligent  constituency — "sucb 
us  no  other  man  ^ver  had  ;"  received  the  highest  honors  from  hia 


NEMESIS.  2o3 

own  government  and  distinguished  favors  abroad,  the  anomaly  of 
nis  age  and  of  our  country  ;  the  statesman,  whom  men  c;> 
und  upheld,  while  they  hated  and  dreaded  the  private  citizen 
ut  once  the  most  gifted  and  the  most  bereaved,  the  most  fortu- 
nate and  the  most  unhappy  actor  in  the  exciting  drama  of  the  times 
Peace,  say  we,  to  the  lone  sleeper  in  the  shades  of  Roauuke 
Ko\v  that  the  stung  and  stinging  spirit  has  passed  from  the  earth 
he  found  so  wintry  an  asylum,  in  his  desolate  misanthropy;  that 
his  faults,  many  and  inexplicable — the  virtues,  that,  to  a  few 
chosen  intimates,  redeemed  and  glorified  his  character,  have  met 
with  their  reward  from  his  Judge  and  ours,  let  a  grateful  posterity 
remember  his  honest  and  earnest  labors  in  his  country's  behalf, 
and  cast  the  mantle  of  charity  over  a  nature,  which  in  his  own 
plaintive  words,  "  no  one  except  the  mother,"  early  lost  and 
always  regretted — "  ever  understood  !"  , 

Colonel  Rashleigh  replaced  the  hat  he  had  raised  in  stately 
punctilio,  as  the  carnage  passed.  The  crowd  sent  a  cheer  after 
the  departing  orator,  and  dispersed  to  other  business. 

"  Paxton  "  was  still  upon  the  sign  that  swung  before  the  vil- 
lage inn.  The  house  had  been  enlarged,  and  a  row  of  thrifty 
poplars  planted  in  front  of  it.  A  long,  low  portico,  stretching 
the  length  of  the  building,  was  supplied  with  benches,  and  served 
as  a  reception-room  until  dinner  was  ready.  This  event  was  an- 
nounced by  the  ringing  of  a  bell  hi  the  hand  of  an  ebony  butler, 
/ho  stalked  np  and  down  the  piazza,  deafening  those  who  were 
near,  and  summoning  many  who  were  afar  off.  "  Mother  Pax- 
ton,"  now  in  her  sixty-fifth  year,  officiated  as  mistress  of  table 
ceremonies.  She  wore  her  court-day  livery — a  black  drtss,  white 
apron  and  neckerchief,  and  *  cap,  whose  starched  crown  was  half 
yard  high,  and  whose  ample  frill  rested  lovingly  against  a  face 
AS  to»y,  and  but  a  trifle  more  wrinkled  than  when  we  last  beheld 
it.  At  the  head  of  the  room,  enthrone!  La  his  easy-chair, 
nu>  rheumatic  limb.,  laid  carefully  upon  a  cushioned  stool,  was  tho 


264:  NEMESIS 

nominal  Boniface,  replete  with  good  humor  -and  wise  saws,  and 
willing,  as  ever,  to  credit  his  "  ole  woman"  with  the  same. 

"  How  are  you  to-day,  Mr.  Paxton  ?"  said  Malcolm  Argyle, 
pausing  beside  hini  on  his  way  from  the  table. 

!'jYIiddlin'  fine,  Master  Malcolm  ;  no  thin'  -to  complain  of,  and 
Srery thin'  to  be  thankful  for.  As  my  ole  woman  says  to  me,  no 
ionger  ago  than  this  identickle  mornin' — says  she,  '  You  might  be 
better,  but  you  might  be  worse,'  and  it's  as  true  as  Gospel,  sir. 
You're  lookiu'  mighty  well,  Mr.  Argyle.  I  don't  remember  seein' 
you  in  sech  looks  in  years.  What  have  you  been  doin'  of,  to 
freshen  you  up  so  sudden  ?" 

"  Eating  one  of  your  wife's  good  dinners.  She  outdid  herself 
to-day.  Tell  her  that  I  said  so — will  you  ?" 

The  old  man  rocked  with  his  hearty  laughter. 

"  I  will,  sir — I  will  I  She  will  vally  the  praise  now,  because 
it's  been  so  long  sence  you've  went  out  of  your  way  to  say  sech  a 
thing.  And  you  enj'yed  your  vittles  ?  Well,  though  I  say  it,  as 
shouldn't  say  it,  my  ole  woman  is  hard  to  beat  at  a  roast,  a  stew 
or  a  barbecue,  and  our  Susy's  comin'  on  jest  sech  another." 

"  Where  is  she  ?     I  have  not  seen  her  in  a  great  while." 

"  That's  because  you  are  never  here  only  court  days.  You 
see,  sir  " — sinking  his  voice  to  a  wheezing  whisper — "  she's  gettin' 
to  be  a  taD  slip  of  a  gai — nigh  'pon  sixteen — and  the  ole  woman 
doesn't  think  it  fit  for  her  to  be  in  the  big  room  o'  public  days. 
'Taint  our  intention  fur  to  make  a  fine  lady  of  her,  though  we'll 
leave  all  our  children  somethin',  please  the  Lord  \  That  'ere 
'nonymous  present  we  had  ten  years  ago,  come  Christmas,  gave 
us  a  lift,  and  we've  kept  up.  You've  no  idee  yet  who  sent  it,  I 
B'pose  ?" 

' :  None  whatever." 

He  had  answered  the  same  question  in  substantially  the  same 
terms  at  least  fifty  times  before. 

"  About  Susy,  as  I  was  sayin'.    My  ole  woman  has  her  notions 


NEMESIS.  2tf£ 

about  modesty,  and  what's  right  and  proper  for  gals.  Not  that 
the  ginerality  of  our  company  aint  well-behaved  gentlemen,  but, 
says  my  ole  woman,  '  Gals'  faces  shoui  In't  be  too  common  ;'  and 
she  keeps  her  in  the  background  like,  you  understand." 

"  I  understand  ;  and  shows  herself  to  be  a  prudent  mother." 

"  Jest  my  sentiments,  Mr.  Argyle  !  They  tell  me  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph made  a  grand  speech  to-day,  si"."  he  added,  as  Malcolm 
was  about  to  more  on.  "A  reg'lar  out-and-outer,  I've  heerd 
say  !" 

"If  he  does  not  take  care,  such  speeches  will  be  'c..t-and 
outers '  in  good  earnest  to  himself.  The  people  are  getting  unruly 
with  the  embargoes,  non-importation  bills,  and  the  like  abominar 
tious,  that  are  killing  home  and  foreign  trade." 

"  Yon  don't  s'pose  that  Jack  Randolph  will  ever  be  beaten  in 
this  district  !"  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "  Whar  will  they  ever 
find  sech  another  man  ?" 

"  Nowhere  ;  but  principles  are  worth  something  as  well  &s 
men — particularly  where  so  much  is  at  stake." 

"  You  are  for  war,  then,  sir  T" 

"  I  would  fight,  rather  than  submit  to  robbery,  and  so  would 
you,  Mr.  Paxton  1" 

"  Talking  politics,  Argyle  I"  said  Mr.  Hunter,  coming  up, 
as  the  last  sentence  was  spoken. 

"  How  could  we  speak  or  think  of  anything  else  here  and 
now  ?"  returned  his  brother-in-law. 

"  True  enough  I  This  is  the  most  excited  meeting  of  the  cam- 
paign. Between  Jack  Randolph  and  apple-jack,  those  fellows 
cutside  have  not  a  sober  brain  amongst  them.  Hear  them — will 
you  ?  What  a  plausible  fellow  Randolph  is  !  I  thanked  my 
stars  when  he  was  through,  that  I  had  not  a  vote  in  this  district. 
It  would  be  cast  for  him,  to  a  dead  certainty,  much  against  my 
conscience  as  it  would  be." 

"  Yet  it  is  clear  to  me  that  Eppes  had  right  on  his  side." 

12 


266  NEMESIS. 

replied  Malcolm.  "  And  autocrat  though  Randolph  is  in  thii 
community,  there  is  an  undei-- current  beginning  to  turd  against 
his  views,  however  eloquently  he  may  set  them  forth.  Another 
year  like  the  last,  of  foreign  injustice  and  home  distress,  and  tht 
people  will  think  for  themselves — aye  !  and  vote  as  they  feel  !  " 

The  tumult  without  increased.  Oaths  and  yells  and  angry 
voices,  in  fierce  dispute  arose  higher  and  louder.  The  gentlemen 
worked  their  way  slowly  to  the  door. 

"  And  that  is  the  way  they  feel — is  it !  "  said  Mr.  Hunter,  aa 
the  rallying-cry  of  the  war-party  split  the  air. 

"  Free  trade  and  sailors'  rights !  " 

"  Down  with  the  British  aristocrat !  "  roared  a  pair  of  tre- 
mendous lungs  in  the  heart  of  the  press,  that  filled  up  the  porch. 

To  Mr.  Hunter's  amazement,  his  calm,k  cool  brother-in-law 
uttered  an  ejaculation,  more  like  an  imprecation,  than  anything 
he  had  ever  heard  from  him  before,  and  dashed  into  the  melee. 

For  an  explanation  of  this  movement,  we  must  refer  the  read 
w  to  another  chapter. 


V  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  267 


CHAPTER    XTX. 

COI.ONEL  RASHLEIGH  did  hearty  justice  to  Mrs.  Paxton's  boantt- 
hi  cheer,  although  he  ate  it  from  plates  of  coarse  white  earthen- 
ware, edged  with  blue  or  green  ;  carved  his  meat  with  a  bone- 
handled  knife,  and  helped  himself  to  vegetables  with  a  pewter 
spoon.  In  his  own  house,  he  was  fastidious,  but  he  had  travelled 
enough  to  learn  how  to  accommodate  himself  to  traveller's  fare. 
His  nephew  sat  on  his  right  hand,  and  Bancroft  on  the  left.  Just 
across  the  narrow  board  were  two  other  gentlemen,  the  one 
middle-aged,  the  other  young,  who  were  saluted  with  great  cordi 
ality  by  the  Colonel's  companions,  and  introduced  to  him  as  Mr 
Woodson  and  Mr.  Blanton. 

A  constant  flow  of  talk  was  kept  up  between  the  two  parties. 
The  strangers  were  profuse  of  civilities  ;  versed  in  the  leading 
topics  of  the  day,  and  expressed  themselves  like  educated,  intelli  • 
gent  men.  Of  course,  politics  was  the  principal  theme.  The 
Colonel  was  deeply  gratified  at  ascertaining  that  all  of  the  four 
were  Randolph's  disciples,  scouting  at  the  platform  of  the  war. 
party,  as  a  visionary  contrivance  of  demagogues  for  the  destruc- 
tion of"  the  simple  and  the  credulous  ;  ridiculing  the  vacilla- 
tions of  the  administration,  its  truckling  to,  and  temporizing 
with  the  French  government,  and  each  trying  to  outdo  the  other, 
{n  lauding  Great  Britain  ;  her  steady  policy  and  straightforward 
measures. 

"  Rely  upon  it,  Colonel  Rashleigh,  if  the  rest  of  the  States  are 
BO  mad  as  to  enframe  in  on  unnatural  contest  with  the  Mother,  so 


268  NEMESIS. 

recently  reconciled,  Viiginia  planter?  will' never  leiu",  themselves 
to  the  iniquitous  proceeding  I"  said  Mr.  Woodson.  impressively 
"  Even  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  there  were  many  of  our 
first  families,  who  could  not  forget  from  what  stock  they  had 
sprung.  Many  a  good  sword  rusted  in  its  scabbard,  rather 
than  its  owner  should  bathe  it  in  a  brother's  blood.  And  that 
was  a  strife  for  Liberty  !  How  many  more  will  remain  inactive, 
when  the  fight  is  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  an  alien  and 
unrighteous  power — we  shall  see  !" 

"I  trust  we  shall  not  see  !"  answered  Mr.  Blanton,  gravely. 
"  The  storm  has  not  burst  yet.  Madison  has  not  the  courage  to 
declare  war.  Mark  my  words  !  The  mountain  will  bring  forth 
a  mouse,  direful  as  its  pangs  appear." 

Mr.  Woodson  gave  an  order  to  his  colored  servant,  who 
waited  behind  his  chair.  He  vanished,  and  shortly  reappeared, 
bringing  a  bottle  of  wine. 

"  Prom  my  humble  cellar,  Colonel  Rashleigh,"  said  Mr. 
Woodson,  as  he  inserted  a  corkscrew.  "  Will  you  honor  me  by 
partaking  of  it  T' 

The  Colonel  bowed,  and  declared  that  he  would  be  most  happy 
to  do  so. 

"  Fill  your  glasses,  gentlemen,"  continued  the  owner  of  the 
beverage.  "With  your  leave,  I  will  propose  a  toast.  Our 
excellent  neighbor,  Colonel  Rashleigh  1  May  the  laud  of  hia 
adoption  never  give  him  cause  to  sigh  for  fair  Albion's 
shores  I" 

The  Colonel  was  tickled  in  a  vulnerable  part — his  propensity  to 
combine,  or,  going  further,  to  make  identical  each  with  the 
Other,  his  amour  propre  and  amor  pdtria.  In  a  very  set,  very 
deliberate  and  very  pompous  speech,  he  thanked  Mr.  Woodson 
for  his  toast,  and  the  rest  for  their  kind  reception  of  the  same  ; 
and  when  they  arose  from  the  table,  "  hoped  to  reciprocate  the 
politeness  very  soon,  in  some  choice  old  port  he  had  brought  wilt 


NEMESIS.  269 

him  from  the  '  fair  Albion,'  so   flatteringly  mentioned  by  the 
worthy  gentleman." 

Tbere  was  a  little  hasty  by-play  between  the  quartette,  and 
Mr.  Woodson  was  again  spokesman. 

"  You  will  not  thank  me  for  robbing  you  of  your  nephew'f 
society  for  a  short  time,  I  am  afraid,  sir.  But  I  have  an  appoint- 
ment  with  him  at  the  clerk's  office,  at  this  hour.  We  have  in 
prospect  a  tiresome,  yet  a  necessary  task — a  search,  through 
musty  records  for  an  old  title-deed  to  some  property  I  design 
purchasing.  In  such  investigations,  Mr.  Moreau's  quick  eye  and 
clear  head  are  often  in  request.  He  kindly  offered  them  to  me 
some  weeks  ago,  and  I  engaged  the  clerk  to  assist  us  to-day." 

It  did  not  occur  to  the  Colonel's  honorable  imagination  that 
this  statement  was  needlessly  prolix;  nor,  that  the  clerk's  rightful 
place  during  the  sessions  of  the  court  was  in  the  court-room. 
How,  then,  should  he  discern  anything  suspicious  in  Mr.  Bancroft's 
apology  of  a  business  engagement  in  his  office,  and  Mr.  Blanton'a 
recollection  of  what  he  had  nearly  forgotten  in  the  delights  of  the 
society  he  must  quit,  viz.,  that  he  had  given  a  note  six  months 
previous,  whose  payment  fell  upon  this  day,  and  that  he  made  it 
a  point  of  conscience  to  pay  up  his  debts  punctually  to  the  hour, 
to  the  minute,  if  possible,  that  they  were  due.  Nor  need  these 
gentlemen  have  taken  the  pains  to  walk  off  in  directions  diametri- 
cally opposite  to  one  another.  The  honest  old  officer  would 
have  scorned  to  watch  or  dog  them,  had  he  mistrusted  them 
never  so  grievously. 

Like  a  large-sized  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  he  stood  near  the 
centre  of  the  piazza,  erect  against  the  wall,  snuff-box  in  hand, 
contemplating  the  heterogeneous  assembly,  as  the  placid  Knight 
of  the  "  Spectator "  might  have  overlooked  a  game  of  cricket 
among  his  peasantry. 

The  formal  debate  of  the  candidates,  exciting  as  it  was,  was  bj 
no  ini'iMis  the  wannest  buttle  of  the  day.  The  Randolph  men  wert 


270          .  NEMESIS. 

sanguine  to  exu.tation  of  their  victory.  Their  leader  had  nevel 
experienced  a  defeat,  and  imminent  as  was  this  crisis,  he  had 
shown  himself  equal  to  its  emergency.  Whatever  shakings  of 
spirit  their  opponents  may  have  suffered,  they  maintained  a  bolf 
front,  and  some  affected  a  braggadocio,  bullying  style,  unwise, 
uot  to  say  presumptuous,  in  view  of  the  uncertainty  of  the  sequel 
to  their  canvass.  From  time  immemorial,  the  bottle  has  been 
the  efficient  ally  of  the  doubting,  desperate,  or  defeated  politiciat 
— a  curious  circumstance  in  national  physiology — by  which  the 
bagacious  party-leaders  now-a-days,  have  profited  to  an  incalcu- 
lable degree,  and  the  morality  of  their  voters  suffered  detriment 
in  exact  proportion.  Real  apple-brandy  does  not  feed  the  flame 
of  devotion  to  one's  country  so  rapidly  as  do  vitriol  and  log- 
wood ;  old  rye  whisky  will  not  metamorphose  a  clodhopper  into 
a  Curtius  so  readily  as  does  strychnine;  but  pure  liquor  answered 
the  desired  purpose  pretty  well  in  the  slow  old  times,  when  inven- 
tion was  in  its  cradle.  Men  began  to  stagger  as  they  talked,  and 
those  who  had  been  cautious  in  declaration,  now  became  declaim- 
crs.  Conspicuous  among  these,  was  a  fellow  of  Titanic  build, 
and  a  brutal,  scowling  face,  in  whom  Colonel  Rashleigh  recog- 
nized the  man,  whose  shout  of  "  Destruction  to  the  British 
everywhere  !"  had  stirred  up  the  British  lion  in  his  pacific  breast 
An  involuntary  frown  crossed  his  features  at  the  remembrance. 
The  man  stopped  short  before  him. 

"  What  are  you  makin'.  faces  at  ?"  he  growled,  with  an  oath. 
"  What  brought  you  here,  I  want  to  know  ?  "Why  didn't  yon 
litay  where  you  belonged  ?  Maybe  somebody  wanted  you  there  ! 
"Nobody  does  here,  I  can  tell  you.  If  I  had  my  way,  I  would 
rid  the  country  of  the  likes  of  you.  Come  here  to  ride  over  OUT 
beads  in  your  coach  and  four,  and  your  white  niggers,  you  pro  ad 
old  Tory  tyrant  1" 

"  Are  you  speaking  to  me,  fellow  ?"  demanded  the  Colonel,  his 
dignity  and  cliolor  rising  together,  until,  l,nt  for  the  stifV  romfo/1 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  27  1 

within,  his  assailant  must  have  withered  down  to  nothing  at  his 
tone  and  aspect. 

"  To  be  sure  I  am  a-speaking  to  you,  old  '  fellow  ! '  "  mimick- 
ing his  accent.  "And  I  say,  you  ain't  wanted  about  here.  We 
ain't  got  enough  to  live  on  ourselves — and  all  along  of  your 
*  orders  in  council,'  and  your  '  non-importation,'  and  such 
foolery.  You  never  heerd  of  such  a  ship  as  the  Chesapeake, 
have  you  ?  " 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject  in  hand,  which  is 
your  unprovoked  impertinence  to  a  stranger,  and  a  gentleman  !  " 
retorted  the  Colonel.  "  I  wish  you  to  understand  distinctly  that 
your  language  and  manner  displease  me,  and  that  I  command 
you  to  desist." 

The  bully  broke  out  with  a  storm  of  imprecation  and  abuse. 
There  was  a  rush  and  a  crowding  toward  them,  and  every  man, 
according  to  his  apprehension  or  misapprehension  of  the  case, 
contributed  his  share  to  the  uproar.  The  watchwords  of  both 
parties  were  exchanged  ;  taunting  epithets  heaped  upon  English, 
French,  and  Madison,  until  it  was  an  impossibility  for  the  trucu- 
vnt  boor,  with  whom  the  wordy  affray  had  originated,  to  distin- 
guish himself  longer  by  words  alone.  In  his  drunken  malice,  he 
strutted  close  up  to  Colonel  Rashleigh,  and  swearing  a  great, 
sounding  oath,  shook  his  fist  in  his  face.  The  Colonel  retaliated 
by  a  blow  from  his  stout  oaken  cane,  that  would  have  upset  the 
i>iute,  in  his  unsteady  condition,  had  he  not  avoided  its  full 
weight  by  a  lurch  to  one  side.  Before  the  bystanders  could  inter- 
fi  re,  he  fell  forward  upon  his  antagonist,  and  clutched  him  by  the 
c?  »vat.  J  le  had  barely  seized  it,  when  he  felt  a  mighty  blow  behind 
his  ear,  and  went  down  like  an  ox  under  the  butcher's  club. 

"Are  you  hurt,  Colonel  Rashleigh  ? "  inquired  Malcolm 
anxiously. 

The  Colonel  had  not  wind  to  waste  in  talking,,  so  he  signified 
by  a  negative  gesture,  that  he  was  uninjured. 


£72  NEMESIS. 

"  And  this  is  Virginian  hospitality  !"  said  Malcolm,  facing  the 
crowd,  his  eyes  flashing  like  blue  steel  "  T.his  is  the  welcome 
you  give  the  peaceable  stranger,  who  would  make  his  home 
in  your  midst?  A  brave  and  courteous  set  you  are !  to 
stand  tamely  by  and  see  a  ruffian  like  that" — touching  thj 
reviving  Goliah  with  his  foot — "  attack  an  unoffending  gentleman, 
whose  grey  hairs  would  have  been  his  protection  anywhere,  excep* 
from  a  monster  and  among  barbarians  1  And  these  are  the  men 
who  run  mad  about  liberty  of  speech  and  freedom  of  thought — 
who  would  direct  the  government  of  a  nation  !  when  there  is 
not  one  of  you  who  had  the  presence  of  mind,  or  courage  to 
hinder  a  drunkard's  senseless  violence  !  I  am  ashamed  of  my 
State  and  of  my  county  1" 

Goliath  was  upon  his  feet  again,  and,  cowed  and  bewildered, 
would  have  slunk  away  but  for  the  interference  of  Mr.  Logan, 
a  neighboring  magistrate,  who,  drawn  by  the  noise  of  the  fray, 
had  reached  the  spot  while  Malcolm  was  speaking.  He  com- 
manded a  constable  to  take  the  aggressor  into  custody  as  a  dis- 
turber of  the  peace. 

"  'Tother  one  hit  fust !"  called  out  a  lover  of  fair  play  in  the  crowd, 

Malcolm  could  not  help  smiling.  But,  ludicrous  as  it  appeared, 
since  one  arrest  had  been  made,  justice  required  that  both  Colonel 
Rashleigh  and  Malcolm  should  be  summoned  to  answer  for  their 
share  in  the  affair.  Mr.  Hunter  made  an  effort  to  seem  grave  ag 
he  offered  himself  as  bail  that  they  should  be  forthcoming  when 
the  matter  was  investigated,  and  the  gentlemen  were  left  at  large- 
Qoliath  was  not  so  lucky  in  his  friends,  and  was  marched  off  t@ 
fell.  The  gathering,  that  had  nearly  been  a  mob,  dispersed 
rapidly,  its  members  abashed  by  the  severe  rebuke  they  had 
received  and  the  resolute  proceedings  that  followed,  and  "most  of 
them  heartily  mortified  at  their  irrational  excitement  and  lack  of 
courtesy  toward  the  elderly  stranger,  whose  only  offence  was  hii 
birth-place. 


H  E  M  E  S  I  8  .  273 

"  This  is  your  property,  I  believe,  Colonel  Rashleigh  V  said 
Mr.  Hunter,  picking  up  the  end  of  the  cambric  cravat,  which 
CJoliath  had  torn  off  in  his  fall.  "  That  rent  was  of  your  making, 
Argyle." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  the  damage  to  your  dress,  sir,"  said 
Malcolm,  jestingly,  to  the  Colonel.  "  I  should  have  made  the 
follow  let  go  before  I  knocked  him  down." 

"  I  thank  you  sincerely,  Mr.  Argyle,  for  your  timely  inter- 
ference," said  the  Colonel,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  What  a  capital  bruiser  you  would  be  !"  continued  Mr. 
Hunter.  "  You  have  given  Bully  Bob  the  ear-ache,  for  one  while, 
I  will  warrant." 

Malcolm  stopped  the  congratulations  which  annoyed,  instead  of 
pleasing  him,  by  inquiring  when  the  Colonel  designed  retui  ning  home. 

"  Immediately,  sir  I — immediately  !  I  have  had  a  surfeit  of 
popular  assemblies." 

Mr.  Logan  endeavored  to  apologize  for  the  rudeness  that  had 
been  offered  his  person,  by  representing  the  extraordinary  state 
of  the  times,  and  the  wild,  lawless  spirit  that  had  taken  hold  unon 
men  in  all  classes  of  society. 

The  Colonel  heard  him  through  with  visible  impatience. 

"It  is  my  opinion,  sir,  that  a  country  and  a  society  containing 
such  disorderly  elements  ;  where  quiet  citizens  are  molested  in 
the  open  day  by  ruffians  ;  where  the  higher  ranks  and  lawful 
authorities  of  this  aud  other  aud  as  respectable  governments  are 
animadverted  upon,  in  the  shameless  manner  I  have  observed 
.it-re,  on  this  occasion — it  is  my  opinion,  sir,  that  that  country 
aud  that  society  are  in  a  remarkable  condition,  sir — a  truly 
re-raar-ka-ble  condition  1" 

\  ml,  bowing  with  an  air  of  not-to-be-appeased  majesty,  h« 
il  the  carriage  which  stood  ready. 

"Do  you  go  now,  Mr.  Argyle?"  he  asked,  seeing  that  M;J 
oolm's  horse  had  also  been  brought  around. 

12* 


274  NEMESIS. 

"  Yes,  sir.  It  is  a  long  ride,  and  my  only  business  here  was  tc 
hear  the  speaking." 

"  Oblige  me  by  accepting  a  seat  in  my  chariot,"  said  th« 
Colonel,  throwing  open  the  door.  "  I  would  like  to  talk  witt 
you.  My  footman  will  i  ido  your  horse." 

To  refuse  a  request  so  flatteringly  earnest  would  have  been  dis- 
courteous ;  yet  Malcolm  could  not  allow  the  bulky  Thomas  to 
bestride  his  pretty  Sprightly  for  a  ride  of  fifteen  miles. 

"  I  will,  with  pleasure,  take  a  seat  with  you,  sir,"  he  rejoined; 
"  but  there  is  no  need  that  my  mare  should  be  ridden  by  any  one, 
She  will  follow  like  a  dog."  • 

"  If  it  is  not  an  impertinent  question,  where  did  you  procure 
that  animal,  Mr.  Argyle?"  said  the  Colonel,  removing  to  the 
front  seat,  the  better  to  observe  the  graceful  creature  that  trotted 
behind  the  carriage. 

"  She  was  born  upon  my  plantation,  and  is,  I  suppose,  of  as 
pure  English  stock  as  was  ever  raised  in  this  country. 

He  added  her  pedigree,  to  which  the  other  gave  the  diligent 
heed  of  a  gentleman  jockey. 

"  I  have,  within  the  past  week,  discovered  a  great  defect  in 
the  horse  which  my  daughter  rides,"  he  said.  "  He  is  going 
blind." 

"  Indeed  !  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it." 

"  Katherine  does  not  know  rf  it  yet,"  pursued  the  Colonel. 
'*  She  is  tender-hearted,  and  the  horse  was  trained  expressly  for 
her.  If  I  could  procure  another,  as  valuable  for  her  purpose,  as 
handsome  and  gentle,  she  might  be  reconciled  to  the  parting  with 
»er  pet." 

To  the  Colonel,  there  was  nothing  to  wonder  at,  in  the  interest 
evinced  by  his  hearer  in  this,  or  any  other  subject  that  engaged 
his  mind.  His  daughter's  horse  ought  to  be  an^object  of  impor- 
tance in  the  eyes  of  aiiy  one  whom  he  honored  by  consultatior 
respecting  it. 


NEMESIS.  275 

*c  It  would  be  a  pity  if  Miss  Rashleigh  were  compelled  to  dis- 
continue her  rides,"  remarked  Malcolm.  "  She  appears  to  be 
very  partial  to  the  exercise." 

"  It  is  my  wish  that  she  should  practise  it  daily,  whenever  the 
weather  permits.  I  should  be  exceedingly  displeased  to  see  her 
grow  languid  and  pale,  as  many  American  women  do,  by  con- 
tinniK'iit  to  the  house  and  sedentery  employments." 

Malcolm  could  have  replied  to  this  slur  upon  his  countiywomen, 
that  English  air  and  customs  had  produced  as  perfect  a  specimen 
of  the  inert  tine  lady  in  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  as  the  enervating  climate 
of  America,  and  the  self-indulgent  fashions,  that  were  creeping  in 
among  her  richer  classes  could  manufacture  ;  but  he  forebore. 

''  Mr.  Hunter — my  younger  sister's  husband,  has  a  thoroughly 
broken  lady's  horse — the  brother  to  Sprightly,  there,"  he  said. 
"  He  bought  him  of  me,  in  the  hope  of  inducing  his  wife  to 
[>any  him,  in  his  horseback  excursions,  but  he  has  not  suc- 
ceeded ;  and,  as  he  told  me,  the  other  day,  he  is  willing  to  dispose 
of  the  nag.  I  will  speak  to  Hunter,  if  you  wish  it,  and  have  the 
animal  brought  over  for  your  inspection." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  sir ;  I  accept  your  offer,  with  many 
thanks.  My  nephew,  Moreau,  is  likewise  seeking  a  purchaser  for 
bis  wife's  saddle-horse.  But  I  should  not  entertain  for  a  moment 
the  thought  of  buying  him  for  my  daughter,  since  Mr.  Moreau's 
iva.Min  for  selling  him  is  that  ho  is  unsafe  for  a  lady's  use." 

''  Unsafe  !   that  is  something  new  !  " 

"  That  such  is  the  case,  he  nevertheless  assures  me.  Either 
his  servants  are  bad  managers  of  horses,  or  he  has  been  unfortu- 
ifiitt  in  his  selection  of  this  kind  of  stock.  1  understand  that  he 
has  sacrificed  several  costl  y  ones  within  a  year  because  they  did 
not  suit  him." 

Malcolm  examined  the  speaker's  countenance  for  tokens  of 
double  meaning  or  suspicion  ;  but  in  vain.  Stifling  the  expres- 
sion of  his  doubts  as  to  the  truthfulness  of  Moreau's  represent* 


876  NEMESIS. 

tions,  he  answered  carelessly,  that  very  good  horse5  were 
ruined  by  improper  management,  and  the  matter  dropped. 

They  rode  toge;her  to  the  outer  gate  of  Briarwood,  where 
Malcolm  got  out  of  the  carriage  and  remounted  his  steed,  sorely 
•gainst  the  Colonel's  will.  He  had  liked  Mr.  Argyle  from  the 
day  in  which  he  rendered  his  daughter  a  signal  service,  and  the 
brave  act  of  to-day  had  sunk  deeper  into  his  heart  than  Malcolm 
supposed  it  possible  for  any  one  to  go.  In  this,  he  misjudged 
the  Englishman's  character.  He  was  very  grateful  for  his  kind 
interposition,  and  inspired  with  profound  admiration  by  Malcolm's 
spirited  address  to  the  mob.  Ever  since  the  occurrence,  he  had 
studied  within  his  own  mind,  as  to  the  most  feasible  and  judicious 
method  of  testifying  his  conviction  of  the  favor  done  to  him,  and 
of  repaying  the  debt.  His  urgent  request  for  Malcolm's  company 
in  his  chariot,  construed  by  the  younger  gentleman  into  a  desire 
for  society  that  might  relieve  the  loneliness  of  the  journey,  was, 
with  the  elder,  equivalent  to  the  Arab's  invitation  to  partake  of 
his  broad  and  salt,  and  cleverly  intended  as  the  preliminary  to  a 
more  familiar  and  friendly  style  of  intercourse.  So,  also,  hia 
conversation  during  the  ride — most  of  which  Malcolm  considered 
the  prosiest  of  long-drawn-out  commonplaces — was  a  labored 
attempt  to  fascinate  his  fellow-traveller  by  the  depth  and  variety 
of  his  information  and  the  excellence  of  his  colloquial  powers, 
hoping  thereby,  to  implant  a  longing  for  further  acquaintanceship. 
He  determined,  especially,  that  Mr.  Argyle  should  be  his  guest 
for  that  evening  ;  should  receive  the  thanks  of  the  ladies  for  hia 
gallant  deliverance  of  the  husband  and  father,  and  Malcolm's 
eurmise  of  this  intention  was  one  reason  why  he  remained  stead- 
fast in  his  refusal  to  go  in. 

The  Colonel  was  not  to  be  balked  by  the  modesty  of  hia 
benefactor.  After  waiting  a  couple  of  days  for  a  call  froai 
him,  he  ordered  his  gig  and  drove  over  to  Ben  Lomond  tc 
renew  his  thanks,  and.  to  be  the  bearer  of  an  imitation  to  a 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  277 

Dinner-party,  which  was  arranged  for  the  Tuesday  of  the  tteek 
folluwing. 

"I  am  going  to  make  you  happy  again,  Aunt  Bab,"  said  Mai 
enlui,  entering  her  apartments,  when  the  Colonel  had  gone. 

•  And  how's  that  ?" 

"  By  going  to  party  No.  2.  The  sacrifice  i*  greater  this  time, 
too,  for  it  is  that  most  intolerable  of  civilized  institutions — a  din- 
ner— a  *  dining-day,'  aa  you  call  it." 

"  Where  at  ?"  interrogated  Miss  Barbara,  contemptuous,  ai 
usual,  of  grammar,  provided  she  made  herself  understood. 

"  At  Colonel  Rashleigh's." 

"  Them  Englishers  agen  ?    You  like  'em,  don't  you  ?" 

"  ^have  no  cause  to  dislike  them." 

"  Xancy  Wilkinson  says  they're  queer  ;  but  mighty  liberal  and 
just  to  her,  if  they  are  atiff.  All  except  the  young  lady.  She's 
the  merriest,  affectionatest  cretur  that  ever  walked,  instead  of 
flewed." 

"  Getting  poetical,  are  you,  Aunt  Bab  ?"  but  there  was  a 
gleam  of  pleasure,  more  heart-felt  than  fun  ever  was,  in  his  smile. 

The  dining-day  arrived,  and  a  little  before  the  hour  designated 
by  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  notes  of  invitation,  Malcolm  threw  the  reiua 
upon  Sprightly's  neck,  at  the  door  of  the  Briarwood  mansion. 
The  double  doors  of  the  hall  stood  wide  open,  and  Thomas,  in 
the  butterfly  splendor  of  his  renovated  livery,  took  the  hats  and 
whips  of  the  gentlemen,  and  conducted  them  into  a  side  room, 
where  they  might  remove  the  dust  of  their  ride,  and  add  the  last 
touch  to  their  toilets.  From  this,  Malcolm  crossed  the  waxed 
and  polished  floor  of  the  entry,  to  the  great  drawing-room.  Then 
were  about  fifty  guesls,  but,  in  spite  of  a  number  large  enough  to 
have  prevented  formality,  and  the  gay  dresses  and  cheerful  voice* 
of  the  ladies,  the  "  state  funeral  chamber"  held  its  own  grimly 
There  were  no  warm  colors  in  the  furniture  to  enliven  the  eye, 
an<l.  on  the  wall,  no  Uickpiing  shadows  ;m>l  tinted  lights.  AJ' 


278  NEMESIS. 

was  dark  green,  except  where  the  high  windows  showed  parallel 
ograms  of  the  bright  white  noon  without. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  greeted  his  neighbor  with  distinguished 
affability ;  Mrs.  Rashleigh  gave  him  the  tips  of  her  gloved  fingers, 
and  Katharine  actually  colored  with  pleasure  as  she  put  her 
plump  hand  in  his. 

"  1  am  glad  you  have  come,"  she  said.  "I*  was  unkind  in  you 
to  stay  away  during  all  the  days  we  have  been  wanting  to  see 
and  thank  you  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Malcolm,  releasing  the  little  hand  he  felt  a 
strange  delight  in  holding.  "  What  if  thoughts  of  those  unmer- 
ited thanks  had  kept  me  away  ?  " 

"You  reject  our  gratitude  !  and  why  ?  "  asked  Katherine,  her 
blush  a  shade  deeper  with  mortified  pride. 

"  I  do  not  reject  it.  If  the  service  I  had  rendered  were  at  all 
commensurate  with  the  reward,  I  could  not  be  so  generous  as  to 
deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  being  thanked  by  you." 

Here  he  caught  sight  of  Mrs.  Holt,  standing  apart,  waiting  to 
speak  to  him,  and  passed  on  to  her. 

"  Your  heroism  is  the  praise  of  all  tongues,  Mr.  Argyle,"  said 
the  governess. 

"  If  you  allude  to  the  fracas  on  court-day,  it  is  not  worth  the 
mention  of  one  tongue,  madam." 

He  would  have  made  a  comment  on  the  weather,  but  she  pre- 
vented him. 

"  Your  mission  seems  to  be  to  succor  the  distressed,  in  whatev- 
er condition  of  life  they  may  chance  to  be. 

"  Whether  in  peril  from  mire  or  mob,"  concluded  Malcolm, 
glancing  mischievously  at  Katherine,  who  was  listening  to  them. 

A  jest  which  required  payment  in  like  coin  was  ever  a  "  poser" 
to  Mrs.  Holt,  and  Malcolm  gained  his  end  in  accomplishing 
her  silence. 

"  But  you  deserve  the  quotation  you  checked,  for  having  s« 


NEMESIS.  279 

ruthlessly  shocked  dear,  proper  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  {Catherine,  after- 
ward. "  You  are  ungrateful  for  her  good  opinion  of  you,  or  you 
would  not  have  thwarted  her  propensity,  in  that  unceremonious 
style." 

"  She  has  a  good  opinion  of  me,  then  ?  How  could  she  hav« 
gained  it  ?" 

"As  if  such  things  were  not  to  be  had  for  the  asking  1* 
retorted  Katherine.  "  I  am  tempted  to  do  violence  to  your  modest 
estimate  of  yourself,  by  repeating  a  line  which  she  recited  on  the 
evening  of  court-day,  after  papa  had  finished  his  account  of  your 
prowess  in  his  cause — versus  Republicanism  and  Bacchus.  '  My 
dear/  said  she  to  me — '  does  not  Mr.  Argyle  remind  you  of  that 
fine  line  in  the  "  Fairy  Queen  ?" 

'  Wise,  warlike,  personable,  courteous  and  kind  ?' " 

Malcolm  bowed  low  to  the  compliment.  A  misgiving  that  her 
gpiritH  had  run  away  with  her  tongue  visited  Katherine,  and  she 
tried  to  amend  her  fancied  breach  of  propriety. 

"  You  must  understand  that  Mrs.  Holt's  life  has  flowed  on  very 
tranquilly.  Since  the  death  of  her  husband,  which  event  took 
place  not  long  after  their  marriage,  there  have  been  no  landmarks, 
worthy  of  the  name,  in  her  quiet  existence.  She  has  lived  in  her 
books  and  study,  and  a  trivial  interruption  in  the  routine  of  every- 
day occurrences  is  an  epoch  of  magnitude  to  her.  I  question  if 
she  ever  had  an  adventure  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life." 

"  And  have  you  ?"  inquired  Malcolm. 

Her  girlish  rattle  was  like  a  strain  of  lively  music  to  him,  awak- 
ening feelings  that  made  him  young  again. 

She  made  a  gesture  of  feigned  vexation.  "  Why  force  me  to 
a  confession  of  the  .unromantic  monotony  to  which  I  have  been 
doomed  ?  Since  you  will  have  the  truth — never  !  A  personal 
adventure — one  labelled,  'Katherine  Rashleiirh — her  property, 
awl  flung  directly  at  my  head  by  the  I-ah.s — is  a  boon  witl1 

t 


2SO  NEMESIS. 

which  I  have  never  yet  been  blessed.  I  have  had  sundry  nan-oil 
escapes  from,  or  misses  of  godsends  of  this  sort.  Witness  th« 
quagmire  drama,  where  Thomas  defrauded  me  of  the  chance  of 
playing  heroine,  by  enacting  the  hero  in  the  part  that  should  have 
been  mine." 

"  Heaven  forbid  1"  ejaculated  Malcolm.  "  I,  for  one,  am  COB* 
ent  that  we  had  a  farce,  instead  of  a  tragedy." 

"  Are  you  fond  of  theatrical  performances,  Miss  Rashleigh  ?" 
asked  young  Sancroft,  catching  the  words  "  farce"  and  "tragedy." 

"Yes,  sir  ;  although  I  have  never  seen  above  half-a-do-zen  plays. 
We  were  talking  of  the  drama  of  real  life,  in  this  instance,  how- 
ever. "  All  the  world's  a  stage,  and  all  the  men  and  women  in 
it  merely  players" — she  repeated  ;  her  peculiarly  arch  smile  at 
Malcolm  reminding  him  whose  pupil  she  was,  while  Mr.  Sancroft 
thought  it  all  right  that  a  young  lady,  who  had  read  Shakspearev 
should  quote  him  when  she  pleased. 

"  I  was  lamenting  that  I  had  never  had  an  adventuve,"  she 
went  on.  "  My  horses  are  the  safest  and  surest  of  that  prover- 
bially uncertain  race  of  quadrupeds,  and  my  passage  in  any  con- 
veyance whatever,  by  land  or  sea,  is  as  reliable  a  security  against 
mishap,  as  is  my  presence  a  protection  to  the  building  that  covers 
me,  against  fire  or  tempest." 

"  Happy  indeed  will  be  the  mariner,  in  whose  vessel  you  deign 
to  embark,"  said  Mr.  Sancroft,  gallantly.  "Fortune  dot's  not 
smile  so  constantly  upon  many  of  her  votaries.  I  have  had  some 
hair-breadth  escapes  from  loss  of  life  or  limb,  and  yon,  Mr. 
Argyle,  have  been  even  nearer  the  land  of  shades.  You  recollect 
that  terrible  fall  from  your  horse  some  ten  years  ago  ?" 

"  I  have  an  indistinct  memory  of  having  been  the  spectator  of  A 
similar  accident,"  began  Katherine. 

She  paused,  in  dismay,  at  the  unaccountable  cloud  thai  seemed 
literally  to  blacken  Malcolm's  countenance.  He  made  no  reply  to 
Mr.  Sancroft's  query  ;  only  looked  him  in  the  eye  for  an  infant; 


NEMESIS.  281 

.'hen,  bowing  slightly  lo  herself,  turned  away  and  mingled  with 
the  company. 

The  girl  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  hurt  or  offended — and 
with  one  or  both  gentlemen.  She  was  helped  to  self-possessiot 
by  perceiving  that  her  mother  stood  so  near  us  to  have  overhear** 
the  conversation,  and  she  was  sure  that  it  would  have  been  ar- 
rested by  some  act  or  look  of  hers,  had  its  matter  or  tone  been 
offensive  to  the  rules  of  good-breeding.  Avoiding,  with  delicate 
tact,  any  reference  to  Malcolm's  abruptness,  she  quitted  the  theme 
they  had  been  discussing,  for  one  more  general  in  its  application, 
'Mr.  Sancroft  obeyed  this  intimation  of  her  pleasure,  with  seeming 
alacrity,  and  exerted  his  utmost  arts  to  render  his  companion- 
ship acceptable.  He  was  a  man  of  great  shrewdness,  and  soifie 
native  talent  ;  was  ambitious  and  cunning,  and,  scandal-mongeri 
said,  a  fortune  hunter. 

In  this  last  capacity,  he  had  deliberately  meditated  an  attack 
upon  the  citadel  of  Miss  Rashleigh's  affections,  and  this,  his  first 
invitation  to  her  father's  house,  was  to  afford  opportunity  for  the 
bombardment  that  was  to  begin  the  siege.  His  impudent  ruse 
had  driven  off  the  only  opponent  he  feared  as  a  rival.  He  had 
counted  upon  Malcolm's  aversion  to  him  as  an  auxiliary  in  getting 
rid  of  him,  should  he  be,  what  report  affirmed — merely  a  friend 
>f  the  family,  and  his  unwonted  attentions  to  the  young  lady  be 
paid  at  his  sister's  solicitation.  This  instant  abandonment  of  his 
post  was  a  welcome  corroboration  of  Dame  Rumor's  story,  and 
as  for  black  looks,  he  cared  not  a  rush  for  them,  nor  for  actual 
insult,  when  they  proceeded,  as  in  this  case,  from  a  quarter  ir> 
which  he  had  nothing  to  lose.  He  was  polite  and  rather  amusingf 
Katherine  decided  ;  but  her  instinct  detected  the  want  of  the 
refinement  which  early  education  may  supply,  in  some  degree 
where  Xature  has  not  bestowed  it,  and  the  manner  he  thought 
vivacious,  she  objected  to  as  pert.  She  wished  that  Mr  Argyle 
had  not  looked  so  fierce,  had  not  left  hei  to  be  entertained  by  t 


282  NEMESIS. 

man  so  much  his  inferior  in  every  respect.  She  wondered  why  be 
had  changed  countenance  so  suddenly.  Probably  there  wa« 
some  feud  between  the  two,  yet  surely,  it  was  neither  kind  nor 
gentlemanly  to  display  this  dislike  so  plainly,  when  they  were 
both  her  father's  guests. 

This  train  of  speculation  and  unpleasant  feeling,  imparted  to 
her  face  a  more  serious  cast  than  it  was  accustomed  to  wear,  and 
as  she  was  too  true  a  lady  to  appear  abstracted,  Mr  Bancroft 
drew  conclusions  of  his  own,  from  the  quiet  grace,  the  tempered 
liveliness,  with  which  she  attended  to  his  discourse.  He  devoted 
himself  to  her,  with  a  burr-like  pertinacity,  despite  her  well-bred 
manoeuvres  to  shake  him  off,  or  to  drop  him,  in  her  course  from 
group  to  group  of  visitors,  and  finally  succeeded  in  his  project 
of  handing  her  into  dinner.  Katherine  seated  herself  very  com- 
posedly, and  allowed  him  to  take  the  next  chair ;  but,  while  he 
was  rubbing  his  hands  under  the  table — a  boyish  demonstration 
of  glee  the  would-be  fine  gentleman  had  not  overcome — his  fair 
one  arose,  with  a  brief  "  excuse  me,"  and  tripped  off  to  the 
remote  end  of  the  board. 

"  Mrs.  Hunter  !  "  she  said,  in  persuasive  accents.  "  I  cannot 
let  you  sit  in  this  draught.  Please  exchange  seats  with  me,  I 
shall  not  have  the  spirits  to  talk,  or  the  appetite  to  eat,  unless 
you  oblige  me  in  this." 

Up  got  Jessie,  in  terror  at  the  discovery  of  the  draught,  and 
pleasure  at  the  marked  consideration  for  her  health,  shown  by 
the  host's  daughter.  Poor  Jessie!  such  attentions  were  rare 
now,  except  from  her  husband !  And  while  Mr.  Hunter,  who 
had  escorted  his  own  wife  to  the  table,  conducted  her  to  the 
place  vacated  for  her,  Katherine  slipped  into  her  chair,  with 
tho  benign  expression  of  one  fortified  by  the  consciousness  of 
having  performed  a  worthy  deed,  against  the  most  murderous 
draught  that  ever  stole  in  through  a  window,  on  a  summer  day 

Mr.  Sancroft  was  not  out-generalled  without  protest. 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  28? 

"  You  would  prefer  a  seat  by  your  wife,  I  know,  Mr.  Hunter  I* 
he  said,  jumping  up. 

The  merry  planter  laid  his  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  and  hf 
sunk,  it  seemed,  under  their  weight  alone. 

"  Sit  stall,  Mr  Bancroft  !  My  wife  was  the  belle  of  th* 
county  when  I  married  her,  and  she  has  not  forgotten  how  tc 
chat  with  the  beaux.  So,  go  ahead,  and  do  your  best  small 
talk  for  her  edification  !  I  will  console  myself  with  Miss  Rash- 
leigh,  and  try  not  to  be  jealous." 

This  episode  in  the  feast,  transpiring,  as  it  did,  in  the  awkward 
pause  that  succeeds  the  bustle  of  seating  a  large  party,  was 
observed  by  all  in  the  room,  and  the  husband's  speech  provoked  a 
general  smile. 

"  I  do  not  promise  to  say  as  many  pretty  things  as  Sancroft 
does,  but  I  will  grant  you  more  liberty  to  talk  to  other  people 
than  he  would  have  done,"  remarked  Mr.  Hunter  to  Katherine, 
as  he  resumed  his  seat. 

"  Painted  sugar-plums  are  well  enough  in  their  season,  but  if 
I  am  to  have  but  one  of  the  two,  I  like  substantial  edibles 
better,"  responded  she,  aside. 

The  meal  passed  off  handsomely,  as  regarded  the  various 
courses  of  dishes  ;  tolerably,  as  to  conversation  and  sociability. 
Brilliant  it  could  not  have  been,  with  Mrs.  *Rashleigh  at  the 
head  of  one  table,  and  the  Colonel  at  the  foot  of  the  other. 
Mr.  Moreau  was  the  vL<  a-vis  of  the  former,  and  Eleanor  presided, 
with  lofty  grace,  opposite  to  the  master  of  the  mansion.  Thf 
dinner  itself  was  a  triumph  of  Miss  Nancy  Wilkinson's  culinary 
skill,  and  those  whose  current  of  thought  and  words  was  con- 
gealed by  the  un- American  stateliuess  of  the  preceedings,  found 
abundant  consolation  in  the  unexceptionable  material  fare  pre 
sented  to  them. 

The  Colonel's  wines  were  one  of  his  hobbies,  and  his  gentle- 
OJec  guests  were  unanimous  in  their  approval  of  his  taste.  Tt  h 


284  NEMESIS. 

to  be  hoped  that  these  were  not  the  only  attraction  that  detained 
them  in  the  dining-hall  after  the  ladies  left  them,  for  it  was  nearly 
dark  when  they  again  sought  the  drawing-room.  There  were 
lights  in  the  silver  sconces  over  the  mantel,  and  in  the  tall  candle 
sticks  disposed  on  stands  around  the  apartment.  Katherine  wa? 
at  the  piano,  and  a  bevy  of  girls  were  dancing  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  ;  the  elder  ladies  sitting  by  as  spectators,  and  chatting  over 
their  own  and  their  neighbors'  concerns.  For  once,  the  dismal 
barn  of  a  place  was  cheerful ;  the  spell  of  its  gloomy  formality 
broken.  The  gentlemen  selected  partners,  without  delay,  and 
the  ring  of  dancers  was  doubled  in  circumference. 

Katherine's  piano  was  the  marvel  of  the  county,  and  her  play- 
ing decidedly  surpassed  that  of  any  other  lady  in  her  circle  of 
associates.  Very  many  houses,  belonging  to  the  wealthy  and 
refined,  in  that  section  of  country,  boasted  no  musical  instrument 
other  than  the  spinning-wheel.  In  others,  lutes  and  spinnets 
furnished  practice  for  the  accomplished  daughters  and  music- 
loving  wives.  Some  of  the  girls,  whose  feet  kept  faultless  time 
to  the  inspiriting  reel,  had  never  heard  a  piano-forte  before,  and 
were  not  ashamed  to  confess  it.  Katheriue  evidently  enjoyed  her 
music,  and  the  sight  of  the  dance,  and  her  happy  face  was  pleas- 
ant to  behold.  Malcolm  drew  near,  and  stgod,  without  address- 
ing her,  watching  <her  busy  fingers. 

"  Why  are  you  not  on  the  floor,  Mr.  Argyle  ?"  she  inquired, 
looking  up  at  him. 

He  had  hoped  that  his  petulance — his  downright  rudeness — 
was  forgiven  or  forgotten,  but  he  was  not  prepared  for  the  frank 
sweetness  of  her  manner,  which  said  that  he  had  lost  nothing  iu 
her  esteem  by  his  behavior. 

"  I  am  hoping  to  obtain  you  as  a  partner,"  he  replied. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  your  patient  waiting  cannot  have  the  reward 
you  ask.  But  I  shall  not  dance  at  all  to-night.  It  is  mamma'j 
request  that  I  should  devote  my  time  to  the  amusement  of  oui 


N  b'  M  K  8  I  8 .  28ft 

friends.  There  arc  very  few  who  like  to  play  while  otheis  dauce 
I  do — and  what  would  be  an  act  of  self-denial  in  another,  L&  a 
pleasurable  duty  to  me.  Shall  I  select  a  partner  for  you  again  ?" 

"  No,  1  thank  you — unless  you  forbid  me  to  stand  here,  ai  d 
participate  in  your  more  quiet  enjoyment  of  seeing  and  hearing. 
I  will  not  interrupt  you." 

"  You  cannot — by  talking  !  Hornpipes  and  reels  slip  of  their 
own  accord  from  my  fingers.  If  you  are  inclined  to  be  com- 
panionable, say  on  !" 

M.ilcolm  had  to  bend  slightly  toward  her  to  make  himself 
heard.  "  Before  I  can  have  either  inclination  or  right  to  be 
'  companionable,'  I  must  be  certain  that  you  forgive  the  unpar- 
donable manifestation  of  temper  of  which  you  were  the  witness 
before  dinner." 

"  Why  apologise  to  me  ?  I  was  not  the  object  of  your  dis- 
pleasure." 

"Mr.  Sancroft  expects  and  needs  no  explanation.  Of  his 
dv'stTts  we  will  not  speak.  My  only  regret  is  that  I  forgot,  in  a 
moment  of  anger,  the  courtesy  due  to  yourself  in  your  own  house. 
That  I  do  regret  it  and  feel  humbled  in  the  recollection  of  my 
ungentle-manly  conduct  toward  you,  is  all  that  I  can  say  to  pal- 
liate the  offence." 

"What  more  could  I  desire  ?  Xever  give  the  trifle  another 
thought,  for  I  shall  not.  If  you  wish  to  make  an  enemy  of  me, 
your  sins  must  surpass  this  in  enormity  and  directness  of  appli- 
cation. A  little  faster,  did  you  say,  Mr.  Hunter  ?  Thank  you 
for  the  hint.  If  my  tune  or  time  does  not  suit  you,  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  let  me  know.  Remember  that  I  am  playing  for  you,  not 
you  dancing  for  me." 

The  nimble  fingers  swept  on,  and  Malcolm  gazed  down  upou 
them,  with  a  strange,  sweet  happiness  rising  in  his  heart.  In 
that  atmosphere  of  music  and  light  and  mirth,  was  born  to  him, 
the  consciousness  of  his  manhood's  love.  He  could  no  loui^r 


286  N  E  M  E  a  ;  A  . 

delude  himself  as  to  tne  nature  of  the  sentiment  he  felt  for  Kathe 
rine  Rashleigh.  He  had  called  her  a  child,  and  prated  sobe.ij 
to  himself  of  paternal  affection,  when  his  heart  warmed  towarc 
her  ;  had  sought  in  her  resemblance  to  his  lowly  and  lamented 
friend,  the  solution  of  his  yearning  for  the  sight  of  her  counte- 
nance, the  sound  of  her  voice.  The  veil  was  torn  away,  and  he 
new  himself  to  be  the,  slave  of  feelings  whose  empire  he  had,  for 
ten  years,  laughed  to  scorn. 

It  is  a  moment  fraught  with  solemn  delight — with  rapture, 
approximating  to  pain,  when  a  man,  who  has  outlived  the  quick- 
growing,  shallow-rooted  love  of  the  boy,  first  acknowledges  tc 
his  own  soul,  that  the  peace,  the  comfort,  the  joy  of  his  whole 
being  depends  upon  another  ;  when  the  woman,  hitherto  only  a 
valued  acquaintance,  it  may  be,  a  comparative  stranger — is.  ele- 
vated to  the  throne  of  his  heart ;  sanctified  into  the  priestess  of 
its  most  holy  mysteries.  -  Malcolm  Argyle  experienced  more  than 
this.  It  was,  as  if,  by  a  miracle  of  mercy,  the  rocky  cell  of  a 
hermit  who  had  died  to  the  world,  when,  for  him,  the  torch  of 
love  went  out,  were  suddenly  enlarged  and  beautified  into  the 
loveliest  of  earthly  abodes  ;  peopled  with  the  hopes  and  the  loves 
that  made  the  dream-land  of  his  youth  a  fairy  realm  ;  but  now 
as  real,  as  present  and  as  perfect  as  were  those  visions  chimerical, 
distant  and  vague.  How  it  had  come  to  pass,  and  how  it  was  to 
end,  he  did  not  question,  in  the  tremulous  joy  of  the  new  self- 
revelation.  He  but  realized  that  the  lonely,  blighted  life  derived 
solace  and  refreshment  from  the  young,  warm  heart  of  this  peer- 
less girl ;  that  the  stern,  cynical  second  nature  he  had  made  for 
himself  was  as  the  sculptor's  clay  in  her  hands,  and  that  hencefor 
w«w4,  under  Prcridence,  it  must  be  with  him  as  she  willed. 


CHAPTER  2X. 

Miw.  CARRINGTQN  spent  two  months  at  her  father's,  and  ic 
limiting  her  relatives  and  friends  in  that  vicinity.  Wbeu  she 
returned  to  her  home,  Eleanor  Moreau  accompanied  her.  Mr. 
Selden's  plantation  was  contiguous  to  Mr.  Men-can's,  and  the 
intimacy  of  the  early  play  fellows  was  renewed  with  a  fervor  that 
was  hardly  hi  keeping  with  Marcia's  quiet  temper,  or  the  indig- 
nation which  Eleanor  had  expressed,  and  was  supposed  to  have 
felt  at  Miss  Selden's  culpable  treatment  of  her  brother.  But  by- 
gones were  by-gones  with  them.  The  two  ladies  met  frequently  ; 
compared  notes  as  to  establishments,  husbands  and  children  ; 
exchanged  fashions,  and  complained  of  their  servants.  Marcia 
remembered  her  girlhood  with  fondness,  if  not  with  regret,  and 
was  thankful  to  be  reinstated  in  Eleanor's  regard,  and  Mrs. 
Moreau  being  somewhat  jaded  by  household  cares,  and  wasted  in 
flesh  from  the  same  cause,  and  the  nurture  of  a  stout  baby,  was 
on  the  look-out  for  an  economical  and  commodious  visiting-place, 
wherein  to  recruit  her  strength  and  good  looks.  She  took  her 
youngest  along  with  her,  leaving  the  other  children,  three  in 
number,  to  the  general  superintendence  of  their  father  and  the 
particular  care  of  Sarah,  who  had  been  promoted  to  the  dignity 
of  "  Mammy  "  to  the  promising  brood.  The  change  of  air  and 
isene  was  beneficial  to  Mrs.  Morean's  health,  and  that  of  het 
infant,  and  the  six  weeks  of  her  stay  sped  by  very  pleasantly 
Mr.  Moreau  was  a  poor  correspondent.  Eleanor  had  insisted  upon 
one  epistle  per  week,  to  .inform  her  of  the  children's  welfare  and 


288  If  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

give  an  abstract  of  the  doings  at  home,  and  he  was  obedient  to 
the  letter  of  her  order,  without  troubling  himself  to  write  jere- 
miads over  his  loneliness,  or  narrate  neighborhood  news. 

He  had  been  lonely,  however,  he  assured  her  on  the  afternoon 
of  her  return.  She  had  performed  the  homeward  journey  in  the 
aornpany  of  an  old  gentleman  and  his  wife,  who  were  coming  in 
their  own  carriage  from  the  Carringtou's  neighborhood,  to  see  a 
daughter  settled  near  the  court-house  of  Mrs.  Morean's  native 
county.  The  Weather  was  hot ;  the  roads  dusty  ;  the  child 
peppered  with  prickly  heat,  and  as  cross  as — its  mother  !  Her 
neat,  cool  house,  swept  and  garnished  to  do  honor  to  its  mis- 
tress' coming  ;  her  children's  noisy  greetings,  and  her  husband's 
repeated  declarations  of  his  joy  at  having  her  back,  were  inade- 
quate to  allay  her  irritable  humor.  Mr.  Moreau  took  his  baby- 
daughter  from  the  weary  nurse,  and  sat  him  down  with  it,  like 
any  woman,  to  essay  the  soothing  process  which  had  been 
ineffectual  with  his  wife.  He  was  an  indulgent  parent,  and  the 
little  ones  loved  him  better  than  they  did  the  variable  and  cap- 
tious mother.  He  bathed  Baby  Nelly's  inflamed  face,  neck  and 
arms  with  milk-and-water,  powdered  her  gently,  and  called  on 
Sarah  for  a  clean  frock. 

"  Sarah  is  busy,  waiting  on  me,  Mr.  Moreau.  If  you  wil] 
make  a  fool  of  yourself  with  that  child,  there  is  the  trunk  I  Get 
a  frock,  if  you  want  one,  and  cannot  wait." 

Mr.  Moreau  did  as  he  was  bid.  The  servants  were  too  used 
to  see  him  perform  such  offices  to  think  of  superseding  him  in  the 
self-imposed  task.  He  stripped  oft'  the  soiled,  creased  slip,  and 
arrayed  his  darling  in  one  of  white  linen,  spotless  and  smooth. 
Then,  he  brushed  her  matted  hair,  and  telling  her  that  she  was 
"her  papa's  ownty,  townty  daughter,"  fanned  her,  while  he 
rehearsed  the  wonderful  story,  on  her  pink  toes,  of  the  "  little  pig 
that  went  to  market."  He  was  the  very  "  moral " — as  the  Irish 
say — of  a  patient  husband  ;  a  pattern  of  amiability  his  bettej 


N  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

aalf  might  have  copied,  with  signal  advantage  to  herself  and 
family.  He  might  have  thought — as  any  other  man  would  have 
done  in  his  place — her  temper  unconscionably  bad,  when  she 
must  see  that  every  effort  had  been  made  to  secure  her  ease  and 
happiness,  and  that  she  ought  to  have  pretended,  if  she  did  not 
feel  it,  some  gratification  at  rejoining  her  home-circle  after  so  long 
a  separation.  But  he  said  nothing,  except  to  Xelly,  uutil  supper 
was  announced. 

It  was  a  delicious  repast.  Eleanor  reflected,  with  pride,  that 
ehe  had  seen  nothing  finer  of  its  kind,  during  her  absence,  and 
that  Marcia — let  Mr.  Carrington  boast  as  he  might,  of  her  house- 
keeping— could  not  prepare  anything  to  equal  it,  if  the  Queen 
urere  to  sup  with  her.  This  was  a  drop  of  oil  upon  the  ruffled 
waters,  and  their  subsidence,  thereafter,  was  marked,  although 
not  too  rapid. 

"  What  nice  peaches  these  are  1"  she  remarked,  graciously,  as 
her  husband  heaped  her  plate  and  poured  the  thick,  yellow  cream 
over  the  fruit. 

"  They  are  from  Briarwood,"  responded  Mr.  Moreau.  "  Unc/e 
sent  over  a  basket-full  to-day  as  a  present  to  you." 

"  Ah  !  that  was  thoughtful  in  him — very  kind  1"  The  peaches 
melted  lusciously  in  her  mouth.  "  How  are  they  all  at  Briar 
wood  ?" 

"  Very  well." 

The  cadence  was  not  that  of  one  who  concludes  a  sentence ;  but 
Mr.  Moreau,  after  a  perusal  of  his  wife's  clearing  countenance, 
apparently  deemed  it  best  to  rest  there  for  the  present.  He  dis- 
creetly barred  his  still  open  mouth  with  a  spoonful  of  peaches,  and 
awaited  an  altogether  convenient  season  for  the  communication 
thus  stopped  midway. 

The  sun  had  just  disappeared  behind  the  woods  when  the  early 
meal  was  concluded.  The  air  was  dry,  and  there  was,  as  yet,  no 
dew  to  dampen  the  grass,  so  the  children  romped  and  rolled  in 

13 


290  W  E  M  E  8  I  8. 

the  yard,  and  Mr.  Moreau  brought  a  couple  of  chairs  from  the 
house  and  set  them  against  the  trunk  of  a  gigantic  walnut-tree, 
that  formed  the  principal  feature  of  the  place.  Then,  he  filled 
the  bowl  of  his  pipe  ;  pressed  down  the  fragrant  weed  with  the 
handle  of  his  penknife  ;  summoned  a  diminutive  Eboe  to  bring 
him  a  coal  of  fire,  and  was  ready  for  a  matrimonial  tete-a-tete. 

"  Carrington  has  a  first-rate  plantation,  I  suppose  ?"  he  said, 
oy  way  of  impetus  to  his  wife's  tongue. 

It  was  called  a  fine  one,  Eleanor  admitted,  and  went  into  a 
detailed  description  of  it — the  number  of  acres  ;  the  proportion 
of  arable  land  ;  the  facilities  for  irrigation,  and  other  items  of 
information  that  bespoke  the  farmer's  wife. 

"  They  have  had- workmen  in  the  house  all  summer,"  she  said, 
•'  pulling  down  and  building  up  ;  and  it  will,  in  the  end,  be  quite 
handsome  and  convenient.  Yet  I  do  not  think  that  Marcia  has 
bettered  her  fortunes  so  much  as  she  believed  she  was  doing, 
when  she  jilted  Malcolm  for  Mr.  Carrington.  I  had  almost  as 
lief  Lave  Ben  Lomond  as  his  place  ;  and  there  is  no  comparison 
between  the  two  men." 

"  Indeed  !"  Mr.  Moreau  withdrew  his  pipe  from  his  lips  ano 
hemmed  vigorously  ;  but  the  premonitory  signs  of  speech  ended 
in  smoke  and  a  sigh. 

"I  have  a  notion,"  continued  Eleanor,  complacently,  "that 
Marcia  has  repented  her  bargain  many  a  tune.  And  it  is  not 
surprising  that  she  should,  for  she  was  certainly  extremely  partial 
to  Malcolm  while  they  were  engaged.  It  was  all  Mrs.  Selden's 
tfork — breaking  off  the  match.  She  was  afraid,  she  said,  that 
Malcolm  was  *  flighty,'  and  would  not  keep  the  estate  together 
after  pa's  death.  I  despise  a  mercenary,  manoeuvring  woman  1 
Marcia  could  not  avoid  contrasting  her  two  suitors,  when  she 
was  here  I  saw  it  in  her  manner,  whenever  she  was  in  company 
with  Malcolm,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  he  noticed  it,  too, 
•nd  took  a  malicious  pleasure  in  meeting  her.  You  recollect,  it 


.' 


W  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  291 

ras  just  then  that  he  went  abroad  so  much,  and  set  everybody 
to  guessing  what  had  transformed  him,  all  at  once,  into  a  ladies? 
man.  All  you  men  are  alike.  You  cannot  deny  yourselves  thtt 
glory  of  a  triumph.  Malcolm  is  eccentric  in  some  respects,  bo: 
he  has  the  foibles  of  his  sex." 

Now  was  Mr.  Moreau's  time.  But  again,  resolution  exhaled 
In  a  puff  of  smoke,  so  dense  and  strong  that  it  curled  up  into  the 
lower  boughs  of  the  walnut-tree. 

"  Have  you  heard  any  talk  of  hard  times  in  H ?"  he 

asked. 

"  They  talk  of  nothing  else,  and  the  people  are  crazy  for  the 
war,  which  is  to  make  a  change,  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  So  they  say  here.  If  the  election  were  to  go  over  again, 
Eppes  would  stand  a  fair  chance  of  being  elected.  Men  are 
getting  rabid  under  the  money  pressure.  How  we  are  to  live,  if 
this  state  of  things  continues,  I  do  not  see." 

"  Are  you  more  straitened  than  you  have  been  before  ?" 
interrogated  his  wife,  hi  an  anxious  tone. 

"  Straitened  !  I  am  cramped — crushed — screwed  down  I" 
grinding  his  heel  into  the  sod  to  illustrate  his  meaning. 

"  I  do  not  understand  why  you  should  be.  You  have  no 
heavy  outlays  at  this  season,  and  provisions  ai'e  cheap,  when  our 
own  plantation  furnishes  them." 

"  We  don't  raise  sugar,  nor  coffee,  nor  tea." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that,  Mr.  Moreau  1" 

The  raised  key  hi  which  she  interposed  this  remark,  recalled  to 
the  forgetful  spouse's  mind  the  propriety  of  discontinuing  the 
habits  of  language  and  deportment  he  had  indulged  himself  in, 
by  way  of  variety,  in  his  six  weeks'  holiday. 

"  I  mean,  my  lore,  that  there  are  incidental  expenses  all  th« 
rime,  each  insignificant  in  itself,  but  swelling  the  total  into  a 
formidable  sum." 

.Name  some  of  them,"  said  the  unrelenting  Eleanor. 


292  NEMESIS. 

"  Groceries,"  recommenced  Mr.  Moreau. 

"  You  had  enough  in  the  store-room  to  last  until  I  got  back 
You  and  Sarah  have  been  too  extravagant  1  I  knew  just  how  il 
would  be.  What  groceries  have  you  bought  ?" 

"  None,  my  dear.  Sarah  is  a  very  prudent  woman.  I  was 
Bpeaking  of  expenses  that  would  yet  have  to  be  met.  The 
winter's  clothing  must  be  provided,  pretty  soon,  too." 

"  When  cool  weather  comes,  we  will  think  of  that,"  said 
Eleanor,  philosophically.  "  I  do  not  comprehend  how  debts  that 
you  may  be  obliged  to  contract  three  months  hence,  can  embar- 
rass you  now.  What  special  use  have  you  had  for  ready  money, 
of  late  r 

"  None,  whatever,  my  love.  Only  " — growing  pathetic — "  il 
humbles  me  to  imagine  the  probability  of  your  being  compelled 
to  deny  yourself  and  the  children,  hi  dress  and  such  articles  of 
luxury  as  you  have  been  accustomed  to  enjoy.  I  do  not  mind 
hardship  for  myself." 

"  Oh,  well  I"  his  wife  condescended  to  comfort  him.  "  There 
is  no  telling  what  may  happen  to  help  us  along.  There  is  TJuele 
Rashleigh,  with  a  strong  box  full  of  British  gold,  who  will  per- 
haps give  or  lend  you  any  small  amounts  you  may  require,  and 
cannot  raise  elsewhere.  And  Malcolm  has  grown  more  friendly 
of  late.  I  don't  believe  he  would  refuse  to  get  you  out  of  a 
difficulty,  if  he  were  approached  in  the  right  way.  What  ho 
does  with  his  money  I  cannot  imagine,  unless  he  is  hoarding  it 
np.  If  we  can  ingratiate  ourselves  with  him,  our  children  will 
be  provided  for,  and  the  prospects  are  promising  for  this  at 
present." 

"  He  may  have  a  family  of  his  own,"  said  Mr.  Moreau, 
watching  a  cloud  sailing  hi  the  zenith,  and  speaking  very  indiffe- 
rently. 

"  Yes,  and  the  sky  may  fall.  A  confirmed  old  bachelor  is 
the  hardest  being  in  creation  to  cure  of  his  own  notions,  and 


NEMESIS.  293 

Malcolm's  disposition  is  as  stubborn  as  stubborn  can  be.  His 
love  affair  with  Marcia  has  soured  him  to  such  an  extent,  that  no 
amount  of  sweet  words  and  smiles  will  ever  win  his  heart.  He 
told  me  once,  that  he  would  cut  his  throat  sooner  than  risk  his 
happiness,  the  second  time,  in  a  woman's  keeping." 

"  He  may  change  his  mind,"  observed  Mr.  Moreau,  stretching 
his  body  to  one  side,  that  his  eyes  might  follow  the  progress  of 
the  fleecy  vapor  floating  toward  the  west. 

"And  you  will  upset  your  chair,  if  you  tilt  it  in  that  ridicu- 
lous manner  !"  said  Eleanor,  tartly.  "  You  might  pay  me  the 
compliment  of  seeming  to  listen,  while  I  am  talking.  My  tongix 
has  not  annoyed  you  much  lately." 

"  Your  tongue  never  annoys  me,  my  dear.  You  wer» 
speaking  of  your  brother,  and  the  likelihood  of  his  marriage." 

"  The  certainty  of  his  singlehood,  you  mean.  You  are  dull 
this  evening,  Mr.  Moreau.  I  am  exerting  myself  to  entertabr 
you,  after  my  fatiguing  journey,  and  you  have  not  said  a  word 
excep*  to  croak  about  hard  times,  by  way  of  raising  my  spirits. 
Is  there  no  news  in  the  county  ?  Do  wake  up,  and  tell  me 
something  to  keep  me  alive  !" 

"  I  have  heard  but  one  piece  of  news,  my  love."  Mr.  Moreau> 
fingers  shook,  as  he  refilled  his  pipe.  "  That  has  created  quite  a 
stir  in  the  community.  They  say  that  your  brother  is  going  to 
be  married." 

"  They  do  !  And  you  call  that  news  I  This  is  certainly  the 
hundredth  tune  I  have  heard  it  Who  is  the  happy  woman  in 
this  latest  edition  ?" 

"  Our  cousm,  Katherine  Rashleigh." 

"  Because  he  danced  with  her  twice  at  our  party,  and  out  of 
civility  to  Colonel  Rashleigh,  accepted  an  invitation  to  the  dinner 
at  Briarwood  !  A  smaller  spark  has  kindled  a  hotter  fire  than 
this,  before  now.  Why,  she  is  a  chit  of  a  girl,  hardly  out  of  the 
school-room — and  he  old  enough  to  be  h^r  father  I" 


894  NEMESIS. 

"  So  I  told  Bancroft " 

"  Sancroft !  what  business  is  it  of  his  ?" 

"  He  would  like  to  get  her  himself,  I  fancy ;  but  is  by  c.a 
means  so  confident  of  success  as  he  would  be,  were  it  not  that 
her  mind  is  divided  by  two  suits  at  the  same  time." 

"  Colonel  Rashleigh  will  hardly  bestow  his  only  child  upon  a 
lawyer  who  has  a  reputation  and  a  fortune  to  make  for  himself. 
He  will  look  higher." 

"  That  is  Bancroft's  fear  ;  but  if  he  can  get  on  the  blind  side 
of  the  old  folks,  he  will  make  Malcolm  tug  for  his  prize,  I 
can  tell  you.  He  has  the  cunning  and  the  daring  of  the  Old 
Serpent — Sancroft  has  1" 

"  You  are  complimentary  to  your  boon  companion.  But  upon 
what  evidence  do  you  and  he  ground  the  belief  that  Malcolm 
iliinks  enough  of  the  prize,  to  '  tug '  for  it,  as  you  elegantly 
express  it  ?" 

"  He  is  over  at  Briarwood  twice  or  three  tunes  a  week  ;  goes 
and  comes  when  he  likes,  quite  like  one  of  the  family.  That,  of 
itself,  looks  suspicious  in  a  man  who  visits  nowhere  else.  Then, 
Katharine's  horse  went  stone-blind  about  the  tune  you  left  us, 
and  Malcolm  crossed  the  river  himself  to  see  Hunter,  and  per- 
suade him  to  sell  uncle  that  fine  bay  of  his,  Omar,  which  he 
oought  from  Malcolm  last  summer.  And  as  Katherine's  groom 
is  not  thought  altogether  trustworthy,  Malcolm  offered  his  ser- 
vices as  her  attendant,  until  she  should  have  tested  her  new  horse, 
and  he  have  become  acquainted  with  her  touch  and  voice.  They 
ride  out  together,  nearly  every  day.  But  /  don't  say  they  are 
going  to  be  married — mind  you  1  Only  people  will  talk,  you 
know." 

"  This  is  a  singular  story,"  said  Eleanor,  thoughtfully.  "  Mal- 
colm's conduct  is  really  extraordinary,  and  ought  to  be  inquired 
into." 

She  had  coveted  his  property  so  hopefully  and  so  long,  for 


N  E  M   E  8  \  f  295 

herself  aad  heirs,  had  argued  so  plausibly  for  the  perpetuity  of 
his  celibacy,  that  she  had  become  a  firm  believer  in  her  theory, 
and  resented  anything  that  threatened  its  stability,  as  an  infringe- 
ment of  her  ownership.  Seen  in  this  light,  the  reported  conduct 
of  Malcolm  and  Katherine  was  reprehensible  in  the  highest 
degree — a  wanton  tampering  with  the  sacred  rights  of  another 
and  that  other  an  absent  person.  This  was  not  the  purport,  in 
words,  of  her  reasoning,  but  it  was  its  virtual  substance. 

"  Perhaps/''  she  added,  reluctant,  doubtless,  to  convict  her 
brother  aud  her  husband's  cousin  of  such  base  want  of  princi- 
ple, "  perhaps  Malcolm  pays  court  to  the  daughter  for  the 
father's  sake." 

For  the  first — and  we  are  credibly  informed — the  last  and  only 
time  in  his  life,  Mr.  Moreau  laughed  in  his  lady-wife's  face. 

"  Why  should  he  court  the  Colonel  ?  They  are  as  unlike  as 
black  and  white  ;  have  not  two  ideas  or  feelings  in  common,  and 
Malcolm  cannot  hope  to  wheedle  the  old  gentleman  into  making 
him  his  heir,  if  he  cared  for  money — which  he  doesn't.  The  way 
to  get  the  estate  is  to  take  the  daughter  along  with  it,  for  she 
will  have  most,  if  not  the  whole  of  it.  As  to  being  neighborly, 
Malcolm  is  as  independent  as  a  king  toward  everybody  else 
about  here  ;  asks  no  favors,  and  wastes  no  civilities.  I  don't  see 
why  he  should  single  out  my  uncle,  to  spend  his  politeness  upon. 
I  ani  sure  it  is  not  through  love  for  us  ;  for  me,  at  any  rate 
B'lt  I  don't  say  they  are  going  to  be  married  !" 

"  You  say  they  are  together  every  day  ?" 

"  Almost  every  day,  my  dear  !"  corrected  the  husband,  gently. 

"  Js  this  hearsay,  or  have  you  seen  it  for  yourself?"  questioned 
Eleanor,  waxing  sharper  with  each  interrogatory. 

"  I  have  seen  them  several  times,  but  heard  of  them  oftener, 
Bancroft  says" 

"  Xever  mind  Saner  rft  1  Where  and  when  did  you  see  them 
in  company  ? — what  were  they  doing  ?  and  how  did  they  look  ?" 


296  N  E  M  E  B  I  I?  . 

Mr.  Moreau  rejlied  promptly,  but  weighed  e«,ch  syllable,  as  hi 
went  along. 

"  I  met  them  in  the  road  through  the  Ben  Lomond  woods, 
yesterday  afternoon,  at  half-past  six  o'clock.  They  were  pacing 
their  horses  at  an  easy  gait  ;  the  groom  was  a  hundred  yard? 
behind  them.  Katherine  looked  very  pretty  ;  Malcolm  looked 
very  attentive,  and  they  both  looked  as  contented  as — two  kit- 
tens !"  concluded  he,  helped  to  the  simile  by  the  opportune  scam- 
per of  a  young  grimalkin  across  the  lawn,  in  chase  of  the 
children. 

"  Robert  Moreau  !  have  you  no  affection  for  your  children  I 
no  respect  for  your  wife  T' 

"  Good  gracious,  my  love  !  what  has  happened  ?" 

"  You  may  see  a  deal  of  wit  in  answering  my  questions  in  thai 
flippant  style,  sir  ;  but  the  day  may  come  when  you  will  wish  yoi» 
had  viewed  the  subject  with  my  eyes.  I  tell  you,  if  Malcolm,  at 
his  age,  is  meditating  the  outrageous  folly  o^f  marrying  a  child — 
a  baby-faced  creature,  like  Katherine  Rashleigh,  a  girl,  without 
one  atom  of  dignity — who  is  always  saying  and  doing  odd  things 
— it  will  be  no  laughing  matter  to  us  1" 

"  I  don't  say  they  are  to  be  married,  my  dear  I"  reiterated 
poor  Moreau,  the  joints  of  his  knees  loosening,  as  her  wrath 
heightened. 

"  You  intimated  your  belief  in  the  tale  !  I  had  hoped  that 
years  had  taught  Malcolm  wisdom  I"  Eleanor  fumed  on. 

"  My  precious  !  may  you  not  be  mistaken  about  his  age  ?"  said 
the  unlucky  Benedict.  "  Men  often  marry  at  forty,  or  even  at 
5ft y — and  your  brother  told  me  with  his  own  lips,  that  he  waa 
just  thirty.  And  that  makes  him  my  junior  by  five  years — and 
yours,  by  two  !" 

It  is  needless  to  repeat  the  tirade  that  attended  upon  this  ill- 
timed,  and  to  the  lady's  notion — indelicate  computation.  It  may 
be  that  it  would  likewise  be  impolitic;  lest,  in  so  doing,  we  might 


NEMESIS.  297 

oetray  our  familiarity  with  the  species  of  domestic  oratory, 
attributed  to  high-spirited  wedded  women,  from  the  time  when 
the  distracted  Thane  of  Cawdor  rnshed  to  regicide  and  to  ruin, 
to  escape  his  wife's  tongue,  to  our  generation,  when  the  most 
brilliant  wit  of  his  day  courted  immortality  in  the  hearts  of 
afflicted  husbands,  in  his  and  all  future  ages,  by  writing  "  Caudle 
lectures." 

We  merely  recount,  to  gratify  the  lovers  of  the  "  heroic  in  com- 
mon life,"  that  the  extinguished  Moreau  stuck  to  his  text  to  tne 
bitter  end — his  last  articulate  observation  that  night  being  a 
feeble  and  spiritless  disclaimer — "  I  don't  say  they  are  to  be  mar- 
ried, my  dear." 

While  this  lively  matrimonial  conference  was  in  progress,  Mai 
colm  and  Katherine  were  returning  from  their  afternoon  rida 
through  the  wooded  road.  Let  them  set  off  from  home  in  what- 
ever direction  they  might,  they  were  apt,  in  the  course  of  the 
excursion,  to  turn  into  this  beautiful  and  secluded  route.  Neither 
avowed  any  reason  for  the  choice,  other  than  the  attractive  fea- 
tures of  the  way — lying  as  it  did,  through  the  magnificent  forest 
whose  trees  were  coeval  with  races  dead  centuries  ago;  leading 
over  hills  and  through  many  a  romantic  glade,  with  its  thicket* 
of  wild  flowers  and  silver  streamlet.  But  it  was  impossible  that 
each  should  not  be  aware  of  his  or  her  ulterior  motive  for 
frequenting  the  scene  of  their  early  acquaintance  ;  of  the  awk- 
ward adventure  that  was  the  unlikely  prelude  to  so  much  of  beauty 
and  happiness  ;  and  that  feeling  this,  and  divining  the  other's 
sympathetic  thought,  the  eye  should  be  more  soft,  the  voice  more 
low  and  mellow,  the  heart  beat  full  and  fast  in  the  reverie  that 
bewitched  them  into  silence  that  was  not  stillness,  or  into  long, 
tonfidential  talks — how  confidential  neither  knew  then.  It  was 
i-oumamion  such  as  heart  can  hold  with  heart,  only  when  both 
forget,  while  asing  it,  that  the  tongue  is  the  medium  of  converse. 

A,-  usual,  common  report  had  outstripped  the  truth  in  proclaim 

13* 


898  NEMESIS. 

ing  the  betrothment  of  these  two.  The  vain-glorious  confidenc* 
and  rashness  of  puerile  passion  would  not  have  been  in  harmony 
with  the  earnest  devotion  that  had  its  foundation  in  the  verj 
depths  of  Malcolm's  soul.  His  was  the  love  that  enriches  its 
object  beyond  any  other  earthly  treasure  ;  the  undivided  gift  of 
a  true,  manly  heart  ;  the  tenderness  of  a  nature,  as  strong  aa 
tender.  But  the  might  of  this  love  taught  him  humility  and  cau- 
tion. While  he  sought  her  society  openly,  and  would  have 
scorned  the  suggestion  that,  his  attentions  were  committing  him 
beyond  recall — as  intimating  the  possibility  that  he  might  change 
his  purpose,  he  guarded  scrupulously  against  the  temptation  to  a 
premature  declaration  of  feelings  she  might  not  be  prepared  to 
reciprocate.  Would  she  ever  be  ?  was  the  inquiry  that  occa- 
Bioned  him  most  disquiet.  He  rated  his  years  nearly  according  to 
his  sister's  calculation,  and  when  he  remembered  that  the  period, 
foreshortened  by  a  backward  glance,  lengthens  into  an  indefinite, 
because  untried  futurity,  when  anticipated,  his  fears  multiplied. 
A  less  modest  man  would  have  believed  the  mirror  and  friends, 
whose  verdict  upon  his  appearance  coincided  with  his  own  know- 
ledge of  unimpared  vigor  and  health  ;  a  timid  lover  would  have 
shrunk  appalled  at  the  dozen  years'  difference  in  age,  and  aban- 
doned the  field  to  a  more  youthful  suitor.  Malcolm  determined 
that  the  success  which  proverbially  attends  the  resolute  and  the 
wary  should  be  his.  As  the  re\v  !ird  of  his  delicate  forbearance, 
he  saw  the  evident  ripening  of  the  girl  into  the  woman  ;  the  rivu- 
let, with  its  dancing  ripples,  deepen  and  expand  into  the  river ; 
saw  thought  taking  precedence  of  impulse  ;  feelings  and  antici- 
pations, unknown  before,  lending  sweet  and  holy  gravity  to  her. 
ilawieanor  in  their  interviews. 

I'rom  one  point  of  their  ride,  near  the  entrance  to  the  woods, 
they  had  a  view  of  the  Ben  Lomond  house,  framed  in  a  vista  of 
trees.  By  tacit  consent,  they  paused  to  look  at  it.  The  win 
dows  were  like  burnished  gold  in  the  sun's  rays;  the  dark  pile  of 


NEMESIS.  299 

buildings  bad  an  air  of  peaceful  repose,  and  the  environing  cot- 
tages and  green  fields  sloping  down  from  it,  made  up  a  picture  of 
rural  beauty  that  called  forth  an  admiring  exclamation  fron. 
Katherine . 

"The  situation  is  well  chosen,  and  the  sunshine  invests  the 
landscape  with  its  own  charms,"  said  Malcolm,  in  reply.  "  Still, 
I  think  with  you  that  it  is  a  fine  old  homestead,  and  my  attachmenl 
to  it  is  great." 

"  You  were  born  there — were  you  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  passed  there  a  happy  boyhood.  I  have  explored 
every  nook  on  the  place  ;  know  every  tree  in  che  woods — I  was 
about  to  say,  every  fish  in  the  creek.  My  grandparents  and  my 
parents  lie  in  the  buryiug-grouiid,  under  that  grove  of  cedars  to 
the  right,  and  there  I  hope  to  rest,  when  my  appointed  day 
comes." 

Katherine  gazed  with  moistened  eye  at  the  quiet  old  house  on 
the  hill,  seeming  to  keep  watch  over  the  surrounding  country, 
and  thought  what  a  serene  asylum  it  looked  for  helpless  infancy 
and  declining  age. 

"  I  believe  that  my  local  attachments  are  naturally  tenacious," 
she  said  ;  "  but  I  have  never  lived  in  any  one  home  long  enough 
to  learn  to  love  it  very  dearly.  I  have  been  a  waif,  all  my  life. 
Mamma's  health  has  compelled  us  to  make  many  changes  of 
residence.  You  must  have  remarked  papa's  extreme  fondness 
for  her.  His  soul  is  bound  uj  in  her  welfare  ;  and  radically 
English  as  are  his  predilections  of  heart  and  taste,  he  has  never 
murmured  at  any  proposed  removal,  that  could  be  of  the  slightest 
possible  benefit  to  her.  Several  times,  within  my  recollection, 
his  friends  have  strenuously  opposed  his  acting  upon  the  advice 
of  the  various  physicians  who  declared  that  she  could  not  live  iu. 
England,  and  advised  travelling  as  the  most  likely  means  of  her 
restoration,  but  he  held  on  his  ^ay.  At  last,  like  many  other 
migrate- y  birds,  we  found  our  way  across  the  Atlantic. 


800  tf  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

sinceHy  do  1  trust,  that  this  is  our  last  move.  I  am  sad  al 
heart,  sometimes,  when  I  reflect  that  this  constant  shifting  of  the 
scenes  of  my  childhood,  has  robbed  me  of  the  memories  that 
appear  to  be  so  dear  to  most  people.  I  have  the  most  tantalizing 
recollections  of  my  infancy,  up  to  the  time  which  we  spent  in  Paris. 
It  may  amuse  you,  but  I  could  weep  when  I  tell  you  that  in  the 
two  years  we  passed  there,  I  forgot  my  mother-tongue — all 
except  some  half-a-dozen  pet-nimes,  which  the  traditional  ' Bessy' 
must  have  taught  me.' " 

"  And  cannot  your  mother  or  Mrs.  Holt  assist  you,  in  giving 
form  to  your  floating  visions  ?" 

"  Mamma  has  never  encouraged  me  to  speak  of  old  times. 
Indeed,  she  seems  averse  to  answering  my  questions,  and  Mrs. 
Holt  entered  our  family  after  our  return  to  England,  when  I 
was  eight  years  old. 

"  One  circumstance  of  my  early  life  made  a  powerful  impression 
on  my  mind,  and  yet,  I  recall  it  by  snatches,  with  dark  gaps 
between  the  fragments — such  leaps  as  one's  imagination  makes  in 
dreams.  It  is  of  a  severe  illness  which  papa  had,  at  some 
strange  place,  while  we  were  travelling.  Mamma  was  with  him 
a  great  deal,  I  suppose,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  I  ran  about  bare- 
footed  and  bareheaded,  with  four  or  five  other  children,  who  did 
not  treat  me  well,  and  that  their  mother  was  a  harsh,  cross  woman, 
with  a  loud  voice,  of  whom  I  stood  in  deadly  terror.  Then  came 
another  gap — and  one  happy  morning,  when  mamma  told  me 
that  papa  wished  to  see  me.  I  was  frantic  with  joy,  for  some 
mischievous  or  cruel  persons  had  made  me  believe  that  he  was 
dead.  Mamma  arrayed  me  in  a  pretty  dress,  which  she  said  ho 
had  given  me,  and  led  me  downstairs,  and  there  I  saw  the 
*papa,'  whom  I  recollected  as  a  handsome  man,  with  dark  curls, 
and  thin  and  pale,  from  long  confinement  to  his  bed — now  so 
altered  that  I  did  not  know  him.  I  pulled  away  from  the  old 
gentleman  with  grey  hair,  who  wanted  to  kiss  me,  and  screamed 


N  ]•:  M  E  8  I  8  .  301 

that  he  was  iiot  ray  father.  Mamma  scolded  and  ho  coaxed, 
and  at  length,  I  was  induced  to  listen  to  reason.  Then  I  awoke 
from  sleep  to  find  myself  rolling  and  pitching  in  a  ship  npon  the 
ocean,  and  a  fit  of  sea-sickness  effaced  every  other  reminiscence 
of  the  voyage." 

"  Which  was,  no  doubt,  only  the  trip  across  the  Channel  ou 
your  way  to  France,"  said  Malcolm.  "  Children  have  the  most 
unreliable  notions  of  time  and  space.  You  must  hare  had  rather 
a  lonely  life,"  he  resumed,  when  they  had  ridden  on  a  little  further. 

There  was  something  forlorn  in  her  disjointed  childish  reminis- 
cences. Nor  could  he  understand  the  neglect  which  had  sub- 
jected the  child  of  wealthy  parents  to  the  low  associations  and 
petty  tyranny  she  sketched,  even  by  supposing  that  her  father'* 
illness  had  occurred,  as  she  stated,  while  they  were  travelling. 
However  exemplary  Mrs.  Rashleigh  might  have  been,  as  a  wife 
and  nurse,  her  tender,  sensitive  daughter  was  slighted,  and  suffered 
in  consequence. 

"  Lonely  !"  Katherine  clasped  her  hands  passionatrly,  and 
raised  to  him  a  look  so  intensely  sad,  that  it  pierced  his  heart. 
"  You  cannot  enter  into  the  meaning  of  the  word,  for  yon  have 
always  '  dwelt  among  yonr  own  people.'  I,  in  whose  ears  it  has 
knelled,  since  my  babyhood  ;  who  have  sobbed  myself  to  sleep 
repeating  it,  and  felt  it  fall  upon  my  spirit — a  load  of  ice  !  with 
the  earliest  waking  thought — /can  tell  you  how  that  little  word 
makes  a  desert  of  a  crowded  city  ;  a  feast  of  death  of  the  gayest 
party  ;  how  it  converts  wealth  into  a  cruel  mockery  ;  the  tones 
of  flattery  into  hateful  discords  !  It  is  not  always  that  I  feel 
thus,  for  I  was  endowed  by  Providence,  with  an  elasticity  of 
temperament  that  resists  care — and  when  forced  to  bow,  retaini 
the  power  to  rise  when  the  pressure  is  removed.  But  I  often, 
often  smile  and  sing,  when  I  am  ready  to  throw  myself  in  the 
dust  and  weep  my  life  away — when  my  wild  cry  to  heaven  is — 
'  Whv  hast  Thou  made  a  worm  to  suffer  torture  like  this  !'" 


30  S  E  1C  E  B  I  8  . 

The  great  tears  dropped  fast  and  thickly  upon  Omar's  mane* 
as  she  bent  her  head  upon  her  breast.  Had  she  looked  up,  at 
that  moment,  the  tenor  of  much  of  her  after-life  might  have  been 
different.  Malcolm's  yearning,  fervent  soul  was  in  his  eyes  and 
face,  and  before  he  bethought  himself  of  expediency  or  aught 
else  besides  the  impulse  to  fold  the  wanderer  to  his  heart,  and 
bid  her  rest  there  forever,  his  hand  was  upon  her  bridle.  With 
all  the  power  of  man's  resolve,  he  quelled  the  rising  emotion,  ere 
she  recovered  self-command. 

"  Do  not  think  me  rebellious  or  weak,  Mr.  Argyle  !"  she  said, 
pleadingly.  "  You  Listen  too  patiently  to  my  discursive  talk — 
invite  my  confidence  to  persuasively — and  if  I  forget  myself 
sometimes,  you  must  share  the  blame  with  my  impetuous  disposi- 
tion. It  needs  curbing  and  pruning  woefully.  But  please 
remember  that  I  never  had  a  friend  before — one  of  my  own,  such 
as  you  have  kindly  offered  to  be,  and  I  have  not  learned  yet  how 
to  make  a  right  use  of  him.  without  imposing  upon  his  indul- 
gence." 

"  He  hopes  to  teach  you,  some  day,  what  use  he  would  have 
yon  make  of  him,  Katherine,"  was  the  reply. 

No  interpretation  was  solicited  and  none  offered.  In  the  silent 
twilight  of  the  forest  aisle,  it  seemed  as  if  the  fast  heart-beats 
must  be  audible  and  intelligible  to  one  another.  Vows  mor« 
definite  and  more  binding  might  be  hereafter  exchanged  ;  but  in 
the  spirit-history  of  each,  the  solemn,  beautiful  sanctuary  of 
Mature  was  recorded  a*  the  place  of  their  plighting 


E  M  E  8  I  8  .  30fl 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A  SADDLE-HORSE  was  being  led  away  to  the  stabUe  as  Malcolm 
and  Katheriue  approached  the  door  of  Briarwood  ;  a  fat,  slow 
steed,  which  Malcolm  identified  as  belonging  to  the  elder  San- 
croft. 

"  I  cannot  come  in  this  evening,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  Kathe- 
rine's  modest  invitation.  "  But  I  will  see  you  again  very  soon." 

"  Colonel  Rashleigh  will  be  disappointed,  Mr.  Argyle.  Ho 
promised  himself  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at  supper." 

It  was  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  voice,  and  she  came  forward  to  the 
porch  from  the  gathering  gloom  of  the  hall.  Her  manner  was 
formal,  yet  it  was  an  icy  approach  to  cordiality,  that  Malcolm 
had  never  seen  in  her  before,  and  which  took  him  now  by  sur- 
prise. 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,  but  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  present  my 
excuse  to  him  ?  He  has  another  visitor,  I  perceive,  and  he  will 
probably  be  engaged  with  business  matters  throughout  this 
evening.  I  shall  do  myself  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  him  some 
time  when  he  is  more  at  leisure." 

"  That  tiresome  Mr.  Sancroft  here  again  !"  muttered  Kathe- 
fine,  on  her  way  upstairs  to  change  her  dress. 

"  You  do  not  like  him,  then  ?"  said  her  mother,  close  behind 
her. 

Katherine  laughed.  "  I  did  not  know  you  were  there,  mamma  ! 
If  my  soliloquy  was  disrespectful  to  the  knight  of  the  eyebrows, 
you  must  CACU.M'  me  on  the  score  of  unaccountable  antipathy.  1 


304  N  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

suppose  it  is  wrong  since  papa  knows  and  trusts  him,  but  1  cannot 
bear  the  man's  looks  !" 

They  were  at  her  chamber,  and  Mrs.  Rashleigh  went  in  with  hel 

"  It  does  seem  unreasonable  to  distrust  a  man  because  you  do 
not  admire  his  eyebrows,"  she  said,  seating  herself  as  if  wearied 
by  the  ascent  of  the  stairs. 

"  Oh,  that  is  not  all  1"  exclaimed  Katherine,  confusedly.  "  I 
am  not  quite  so  childish  as  that.  His  black  eyes  are  so  cunning, 
and  his  endless  talks  such  a  conglomeration  of  nauseous  compli* 
ments  and  business  items  and  inquisitiveness,  that  he  impresses 
me  most  disagreeably.  You  have  never  met  him,  I  believe, 
mamma  ?" 

"  He  has  been  here  but  twice  at  meal-times,  and  on  both  occa 
sions  I  was  confined  to  my  room.  I  intend  going  down  to  supper 
to-night." 

"  You  will  not  like  him  !"  said  Katherine,  in  a  confident  tone, 
and  proceeding  with  her  toilet.  "  His  eyebrows  will  give  you  a 
nervous  turn.  They  have  St.  Vitus's  dance  in  its  worst  type." 

"  Does  the  son  share  in  the  antipathy  you  profess  to  feel 
against  the  father  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

"  I  can  assign  better  reasons  for  my  want  of  appreciation  of  hi* 
fascinating  qualities,  yet  I  can  better  endure  his  conversation." 

"  So  Mrs.  Holt  thinks  1" 

"  Madam  !"  said  Katherine,  wheeling  around  from  the  mirror. 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  smiled  ;  a  gleam  that  had  a  faint  touch  of  hei 
daughter's  archness. 

"  Mrs.  Holt  has  confided  to  me,  in  the  discharge  of  her  official 
duties,  her  impression  that  Mr.  Bancroft  contemplates  becoming 
a  suitor  for  Miss  Rashleigh's  hand,  and  that  Miss  Rashleigh  is 
Dot  insensible'to  Mr.  Bancroft's  merits." 

Katherine  colored  almost  angrily,  and  then,  detecting  the  lurk« 
vug  smile  about  her  mother's  mouth,  burst  into  a  hearty  fit  of 
laughter. 


NEMESIS.  305 

"  How  ridiculous  !  Who  could  have  thrust  such  a  fancy  iuto 
the  poor,  dear  lady's  brain  I  It  never  crept  there  of  itself  1" 

'*  She  sees  nothing  absurd  in  the  fancy,  or  in  the  mutual  pre* 
fereuce  it  asserts,"  answered  her  mother. 

"  And  do  not  you  ?  /  admire  Mr.  Sancroft  !  I  permit  the 
addresses  of  a  man  whom  I  neither  like  nor  respect !  a  pert,  con- 
sequential, selfish  attorney  I" 

"  You  forget  that  there  is  no  profession  in  this  country  more 
honorable  than  that  of  the  law  ;  none  that  leads  more  directly  to 
fame,  and  frequently  to  wealth." 

"  A  lawyer  is  a  different  creature  from  a  pettifogger  !"  returned 
Katherine,,  curling  her  pretty  lip. 

"  We  will  not  quarrel  about  terms.  Only,  do  not  confound 
the  profession  with  the  practitioner.  I  may  assure  Mrs.  Holt, 
then,  that  she  need  not  trouble  herself  to  be  circumspect  in  con- 
versing of  our  gentleman  visitors — Mr.  Sancroft,  particularly — > 
that  you  are  heart-free  ?" 

Katherine  drew  back  from  the  window  that  let  in  the  glow  of 
the  crimson  West,  as  she  replied  :  "  Refer  Mrs.  Holt  to  me.  I 
think  that  I  can  speedily  convince  her  of  the  baseless  nature  of 
her  surmises — whether  borrowed,  or  of  her  own  manufacture." 

It  may  have  been  the  lingering  effects  of  this  conversation  that 
painted  Katherine's  cheeks,  when  she  joined  the  family  and  Mr. 
Saucroft  at  the  table.  Mr.  Bancroft's  hair  was  snow-white, 
but  bushy  still ;  his  smile  was  as  constant,  his  eye  as  sharp 
»nd  his  eyebrows  were  as  indefatigable  as  they  had  been  in  his 
prune 

"  Most  happy  to  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you,  madam  P 
he  said,  cringingly  to  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  "Colonel  Rashleigh 
informs  me  that  your  valuable  health  is  improving  in  our  salubri- 
ous climate.  Health  is  a  boon  which  none  of  us  rightly  value 
until  we  are  deprived  of  it,  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  My  lamented  part 
oer  was  delicate  for  some  years  before  hei  decease,  and  this  cir 


106  NEMESIS. 

cum  stance  renders  me  more  sympathizing  toward  others,   vho 
are  similarly  afflicted,  Colonel  Rashleigh." 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  listened  with  an  unmoved  countenance,  that  did 
not  resent,  as  did  Katherine's  tell-tale  features,  the  analogy 
drawn  between  the  dear  departed  and  the  lady  of  the  house. 
Before  she  could  compose  her  contemptuous  muscles,  Mr.  San- 
croft  faced  about  upon  her. 

"  Your  blooming  cheeks  bespeak  your  immunity  from  '  all  the 
ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to,'  Miss  Rashleigh.  You  enjoy  unbroken 
sanity  of  body  and  quiet  of  mind,  I  conclude.  You  set  a 
iommendable  example  of  wholesome  exercise  to  the  other  young 
people  of  our  community,  one  which  I  hope  will  be  extensively 
followed.  Your  splendid  horsemanship  must  have  been  learned 
in  a  riding-school,  Miss  Rashleigh  ?  And,  how  are  you  pleased, 
ray  dear  young  lady,  with  the  physical  and  social  structure  of 
your  adopted  home  ?  I  presume  that  you  have  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  most  of  our  neighbors.  I  think  that  my  daughters  have 
-  called  upon  you — hey  ?" 

"  They  have,  sir.  I  returned  tne  visit,  but  they  were  noi  at 
home." 

She  did  not  append  her  subsequent  resolution  not  to  cultivate 
their  acquaintance. 

"  Mr  Sancroft  and  myself  will  be  busied,  most  of  the  evening, 
hi  balancing  our  accounts,  my  dear,"  remarked  Colonel  Rashleigh 
to  the  statue  at  the  head  of  the  board.  "  Therefore,  we  mus' 
deny  ourselves  the  pleasure  of  your  society,  ladies,"  including 
Mrs  Hi  It  and  his  daughter  in  his  ceremonious  bow. 

"The  loss  indeed  is  a  heavy  one  1"  Mr.  Sancroft  said,  with  t 
monkey-like  imitation  of  his  host's  precise  gallantry.  "  I  hope, 
However,  that  when  these  necessary,  although,  at  times,  irksome 
affairs  are  disposed  of,  we'  may  enjoy  many  occasions  of  frieudlj 
intercourse,"  and  he  ducked  his  head  to  a  level  with  his  tea-cup. 
The  meal  was  not  protracted  by  superfluous  conversation, 


N  E  M  K  S  I  8 .  30" 

except  on  his  part.  Unabashed  by  the  frigidity  of  the  hostess 
Katheriue's  barely  civil  rejoinders  to  his  questions,  and  Mrs 
Hult's  prudent  reserve,  he  brought  forth  his  best  stores,  his  longest 
words  and  most  fawning  flatteries,  and  left  the  table,  in  the  bliss 
ful  consciousness  of  having  played  to  perfection  the  One  gentle- 
man— a  role  he  had  studied  to  acquire,  as  his  accumulating  wealth 
enabled  him  to  rank  with  his  neighbors  in  outward  show. 

Katherine  sat  for  a  while  in  the  family  parlor,  where  her 
mother  and  Mrs.  Holt  were  at  work. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  presently,  "  what  business  is  it  that 
brings  Mr.  Saucroft  here  so  often  ?" 

"He  is  a  kind  of  general  agent — a  collector,"  replied  Mrs 
Rashleigh,  "  and  in  this  capacity,  was  employed  by  Mr.  Moreau, 
to  negotiate  for  this  plantation,  with  its  former  owner.  He  pur- 
chased the  stock  ;  the  farming  implements,  the  servants — everv- 
thing  that  we  did  not  bring  over  with  us." 

"  But  why  was  he  selected  ?  Surely  my  cousin  Robert  waa 
competent  to  the  task." 

"It  was  your  father's  wish.  He  does  not  like  to  have 
moneyed  transactions  with  his  relations." 

"  And  is  not  the  estate  paid  for  ?" 

"  A  portion  of  the  purchase-money  was  paid  down  at  the  trans- 
fer of  the  property  ;  upon  the  remainder,  the  terms  of  the  sale 
allowed  a  credit  of  some  length." 

"  And  Mr.  Sancroft  has  kept  the  accounts  !  Mrs.  Holt,  do 
you  believe  that  a  man  of  his  physiognomy  and — eyebrows — ca;> 
be  worthy  of  this  unlimited  confidence  ?" 

"  My  dear  Miss  Rashleigh !"  said  the  shocked  governess.  Thai 
Mr.  Sancroft  is  an  honorable  man,  I  cannot  disbelieve  " 

"  And  so  were  Brutus  and  Cassias — Mark  Antony  ful 
authority,"  interrupted  Katherine,  in  affectionate  raillery  that 
could  not  be  mistaken  for  disrespect.  "Do  you  remember  tlw 
doggerel  stanza  the  schoolboys  used  to  sing  ? 


308  NEMESIS. 

*  "  '  I  do  not  like  you,  Doctor  Feft, 

The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell ; 
But  this  I  do  know  very  well 
I  do  not  like  you,  Doctor  Fell.' 

For  Doctor  Fell,  read  Ichabod  Bancroft." 

She  went  singing  out  of  the  room,  and  the  next  minute  th« 
music  of  the  piano  came  from  the  adjoining  parlor,  where  she  was 
alone  in  the  dark. 

The  two  ladies  sat  upright  in  the  straight-backed  chairs,  and 
sewed  without  speaking — one,  grave  and  severe  of  visage,  the 
other  grave  and  mild — while  the  plaintive  airs  Katherine  loved 
best,  floated  down  the  long  room,  to  their  ears,  like  strains  from 
the  spirit-laud.  During  an  hour  they  remained  thus,  and  Colonel 
Rashleigh  made  his  appearance. 

"  I  stepped  in  for  a  moment,  Margaret,  to  consult  you  as  to 
the  propriety  of  inviting  Mr.  Sancroft  to  remain  with  us  over 
night.  It  will  not  be  practicable  for  us  to  finish  our  comparison 
of  accounts  this  evening,  and  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  if  he 
were  on  the  spot,  we  could  accomplish  all  that  we  desire  early  in 
the  morning.  What  do  you  think  ?" 

"  It  is  a  moonlight  night,  and  Mr.  Bancroft's  family  probably 
expect  him  home,"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  measured  accents.  "  It 
will  not  be  altogether  convenient  to  me  to  have  a  room  prepared 
for  him,  and  the  distance  is  so  short  that  he  will  not  regard  tho 
ride  over  here  again  to-morrow  or  next  day.  You  will  oblige  me 
by  appointing  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

A  side-glance  at  Mrs.  Holt  intimated  to  him  that  she  would, 
by-and-by,  impart  to  his  private  ear  her  reasons  for  this  request. 

Accordingly,  when  the  obsequious  agent  had  departed,  Kathe- 
rine and  Mrs.  Holt  having  sought  their  respective  chambers,  Mrs 
I^ashleigh  folded  her  sewing  ;  shut  it  up  in  the  drawer  of  he? 
work-table  ;  extinguished  the  lights  in  the  sitting-room,  and 
repaired  to  the  library.  The  Colonel  was  there,  newspaper  and 


NEMESIS  SOS 

MiaS-box  in  baud.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  accepted  the  chair  and  foot- 
eushioii  he  arranged  for  her,  and  broached  the  subject  without 
preamble. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  about  this  Mr.  Bancroft." 

There  was  no  decided  stress  upon  the  demonstrative  pronoun, 
jet  the  Colonel's  esteem  of  "tkis  Mr.  Bancroft"  fell  half  a 
degree. 

"  Has  he  the  confidence  of  the  leading  men  in  this  com- 
munity ?"  pursued  his  wife.  "  In  these  times,  we  cannot  be  too 
cautious  whom  we  trust.  If  I  understand  aright,  you  have 
known  none  of  the  other  parties  concerned  in  your  purchases.  To 
save  them  and  you  trouble,  he  is  empowered  to  receive  and  dis- 
burse the  sums  due  for  the  plantation  and  appurtenauces." 

She  spoke  quietly,  but  without  the  languor  that  generally 
marked  her  style. 

"  Such  seemed  the  fittest  arrangement,"  replied  the  Colonel. 
'*  I  am  a  stranger  to  the  people,  their  currency  and  laws  of  pur- 
chase and  sale.  Robert  Moreau  recommended  this  man  as  a 
trusty  agent,  conversant  with  all  such  matters.  He  keeps  hia 
books,  and  I  keep  mine.  Thus  far,  they  agree." 

"I  have  heard  that  this  Bancroft  was  once  the  steward, 
ft  agent,  if  you  will,  of  Mr.  Argyle's  father.  Have  you  ever 
inquired  his  character  from  him  ?" 

"  I  never  have.  It  has  not  appeared  expedient,  according  to 
my  judgment." 

"  Excuse  a  very  direct  question.  If  this  man  were  disposed  to 
defraud  you,  is  it  in  his  power  to  do  so  ?" 

"  Assuredly!"  replied  the  Colonel,  restlessly.  "  It  is  always  in 
the  power  of  a  dishonest  man  to  defraud  whomsoever  he  may 
deal  with.  It  is  a  defect  hi  commercial  institutions,  but  one  for 
which  no  remedy  has  as  yet  been  devised." 

"  You  accept  Bancroft's  statement  without  any  evidence 
beyoiid  his  word — do  yeu  not  ?  For  example — if  he  presents  a 


310  NEMESIS. 

bill,  setting  forth  that  a  certain  sum  was  demanded  for  a  certain 
uumber  of  cattle,  you  discharge  the  debt  without  further  inquiry 
into  the  matter  ?" 

''I  do.  You  are  aware,  my  dear,  that  the  stock  and  the 
farm-tools  were  bought  of  many  different  parties,  scattered 
throughout  the  State.  With  those  at  a  distance,  Mr.  Sancioft 
communicated,  by  letter,  my  order  that  all  accounts  should  be 
forwarded  to  me  through  him.  You  perceive  that  this  arrange- 
ment spares  me  a  great  deal  of  trouble." 

"  I  perceive  " — she  was  calmly  energetic — "  that  you  are 
honest,  the  soul  of  a  rectitude  that  thinks  no  evil  of  other  men, 
and  that  Mr.  Bancroft's  profits  in  this  transaction  may  exceed  his 
lawful  percentage  by  almost  any  amount  he  may  deem  it  safe  to 
extort !" 

"  Margaret  I  are  you  not  severe  in  your  suspicion  of  a  man 
whom  you  have  no  reason  to  distrust  ?  Think  !  v.-ould  mj 
nephew  advise  me  to  place  my  interests  in  his  power,  had  he  noli 
tried  and  proved  his  integrity  ?  Could  he  have  borne  an  uublem* 
lined  name  in  the  county,  for  twenty  years,  if  he  had  ever  been 
convicted  of  dealings  like  these  ?" 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  his  wife,  calmly  still,  but  her  slight  hand 
quivered  as  she  lifted  it,  "  that  you  are  not  safe  I  You  have 
often  said  that  my  judgment  was  good,  my  perception  of  charac- 
ter correct.  Believe  me  now,  when  I  declare  to  you  that  you? 
agent  is  unprincipled,  and  that  you  cannot  be  too  much  on  your 
guard." 

"  Why  never  tell  me  this  until  now  ?" 

The  Colonel  was  not  an  astute  man,  but  he  sould  not  overlook 
this  inconsistency. 

"  1  had  what  seemed  to  me  sufficient  reasons  for  the  delay." 
Bhe  smiled  drearily.  "  I  never  intended  that  you  should  lose  by 
him." 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  if  he  chooses  to  play  the  villain  ?" 


K  £  M  £  8  I  b.  311 

"  Represent  to  hira  that  your  inexperience  in  American  fi.iau- 
cial  concerns  renders  it  expedient  that  his  accounts  and  yours 
should  be  inspected  and  tested  by  a  third  party.  Let  that  person 
be  a  lawyer,  sound  and  sagacious — Mr.  Hammond,  if  you  please 
Ride  over  to  see  him  to-morrow,  and  make  an  appointment  with 
hiia  for  the  day  following.  Deliver  Saucroft  and  his  books  into 
Im  hands,  without  warning  to  your  clever  man  of  bu- 
Require  that  every  bill  be  examined  by  the  one  in  whose  name  it 
is  drawn,  if  the  number  of  such  be  legion,  and  they  be  scattered 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  It  will  take  time,  and  be  an 
expensive  procedure,"  she  continued,  dropping  her  emphatic  tone, 
and  returning  to  her  ordinary  listlessness.  "  You  can  consider 
the  plan,  and  act  as  your  judgment  dictates.  You  have  not  read 
your  paper  yet,  I  observe.  I  ask  your  pardon  for  engrossing  so 
much  of  your  tune.  Good  night." 

Great  was  Malcolm  Argyle's  amazement,  when  Colonel  Rash- 
leigh  introduced  the  subject  of  the  errand  that  took  him  to  Ben 
Lomond  the  next  morning,  namely,  a  minute  inquiry  into  Mr 
Bancroft's  antecedents  and  character. 

"  You  cannot  comprehend  how  delicate  and  difficult  is  tli\ 
position  in  which  you  would  place  me,  Colonel  Rashleigh,"  he 
said,  truthfully.  ;' Personally,  I  am  Mr.  Bancroft's  enemy. 
Such  is  my  dislike  of  him,  that  if  I  could,  without  compromising 
my  veracity  and  honor,  thwart  his  purposes,  I  would  do  so,  not 
only  willingly,  but  gladly.  I  entertain  feelings  toward  him  and 
his  son,  such  as  I  have  for  no  other  persons  living.  This  honest 
statement  will  perhaps  show  you  that  I  am  scarcely  the  proper 
maa  to  consult  on  this  point." 

"  I  have  too  just  a  knowledge  of  Mr.  Argyle's  integrity  and 
honor,  to  believe  that  hi&  private  animosity  would  bias  his  judg* 
ment  in  sc  grave  a  'decision  as  the  question  of  another  man's 
honesty,"  replied  the  Colonel,  in  stately  courtesy.  "  As  a  friend, 
I  persist  in  asking  your  candid  opinion  of  the  agent  selected  foi 


312  NEMESIS. 

me  by  my  uephew.  I  shall  make  no  unfair  use  of  the  information 
thus  obtained.  My  object  is  to  save  myself — not  to  injure  Mr 
Bancroft." 

Still,  Malcolm  demurred.  "  Allow  me  to  make  an  inquiry  or 
two,  sir,  before  I  satisfy  you.  Have  you  had  any  especial  cause 
tor  suspecting  fraudulent  dealings  on  the  part  of  your  agent  ?" 

"  None,  sir,  or  none  that  would  have  weight  with  any  one, 
save  mytself." 

"  Have  you  been  warned  against  him  ?" 

"  I  havw.  sir." 

"  By  any  one  hi  this  county,  may  I  inquire  ?" 

It  was  the  Colonel's  turn  to  hesitate.  A  purple  tinge  suffused 
iKis  forehead,  and  he  looked  down  for  an  instant.  Then,  like  a 
proud  husband,  who  was  not  ashamed  to  be  influenced  by  such  a 
wife,  he  spoke  out  his  mind. 

"  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  Mr.  Argyle,  is  a  woman  of  extraordinary 
penetration,  of  remarkable  discernment  1  She  says  little,  but  she 
is  always  watchful  and  thoughtful.  She  advised  this  application 
to  you,  and  insinuated  her  belief  that  its  result  would  confirm 
uer  unfavorable  opinion  of  my  nephew's  choice.  I  have  never 
luiown  her  judgment  to  err,  and  after  mature  reflection,  I  have 
adopted  the  course  she  recommended.  Of  course,  I  am  not 
blind  to  the  fact  that  her  suggestion,  had  it  proceeded  from  any 
other  lady,  would  not  have  been  entitled  to  receive  the  weight  I 
have  given  it,  but  you,  sir,  are  too  accurate  a  judge  of  character 
not  to  have  perceived  that  Mrs.  Rashleigh  is,  as  I  previously 
stated,  a  most  re-mar-ka-ble  person  I" 

Malcolm  bowed.  "  I  am  honored  by  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  confi- 
dence, ignorant  as  I  am  of  the  causes  that  instigated  her 
reference  to  me,"  replied  he,  sincerely.  "  I  will  not  be  backward 
in  frankness,  sir.  I  believe  Bancroft  to  be  entirely  undeserving 
of  your  trust  ;  as  regardless  of  honesty  as  of  truth  ;  if  you  will 
hear  the  plain  language  of  my  sentiments — he  is  a  knave  and  a 


NEMKSI8.  313 

Bar  !  Still,  you  will  find  him  an  efficient  eye-servant.  No  man 
in  the  State  understands  bis  line  of  business  better  than  he  does. 
He  is  keen,  quick,  and  thorough  in  the  execution  of  commissions, 
and  if  he  knows  that  he  is  watched,  he  displays  a  hair-splitting 
exacting  that  is  calculated  to  beguile  his  employer  into  the  belief 
of  his  extreme  conscientiousness." 

"  I  have  remarked  that  myself  in  a  number  of  instances," 
returned  the  Colonel.  "  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  having  been  thus 
unreserved  and  explicit  in  your  reply  to  my  queries.  May  I 
trespass  yet  further  upon  your  patience  and  your  friendship  by  a 
disclosure  of  my  plan  for  future  action  ?•' 

Malcolm  heard  and  approved,  adding  his  to  Mrs.  Rashleigh's 
recommendation  of  Mr.  Hammond.  He  consented,  also,  at  the 
Colonel's  request,  to  give  him  a  note  of  introduction  to  the 
lawyer,  who  was  a  personal  friend  of  his  own,  and  after  renewing 
his  expressions  of  grateful  regard,  the  Colonel  left  the  master  of 
Ben  Lomo'.id  to  ponder  upon  the  apparent  chance  which  had 
placed  the  reputation  of  his  old  enemy  in  his  power. 

Colonel  Rashleigh's  ready  and  full  confidence  in  a  stranger 
although  the  character  of  that  one  was  indorsed  by  his  nephew, 
had  excited  the  wondering  remarks  of  many  who,  while  they  did 
not  hesitate  to  use  Sancroft  to  press  a  delinquent  or  tardy  debtor 
of  their  own,  examined  his  reports  very  narrowly,  lest  he  might 
have  placed  a  figure  on  the  wrong  side  for  them,  and  the  right 
for  himself.  Mr.  Hammond  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  at  Col- 
onel Rashleigh's  call  and  request  that  he  would  meet  Mr.  San- 
croft  at  Briarwood,  the  next  day,  to  assist  in  the  winding  up  of 
their  affairs. 

It  was  a  curious,  and  to  the  lawyer,  a  diverting  study,  to 
watch  the  evolutions  of  the  famous  eyebrows,  when  the  object  of 
Mr.  Hammond's  appearance  in  the  Colonel's  library,  at  the 
appointed  hour,  was  explained  to  their  owner.  Colonel  Rash- 
Sigh's  demeanor  was  gentlemanly  and  dignified,  formal,  but  not 

14 


NEMESIS. 

discourteous,  and  his  quiet  assumption  oi  his  right  to  call  in  what* 
ever  assistance  be  needed  in  the  conclusion  of  a  transaction  so 
important,  could  not  be  gainsaid  by  any  man  in  his  senses 
Moreover,  Mr.  Hammond  was  too  skillful  a  practitioner  not  to 
mistrust  an  attempted  evasion  or  counterfeit  of  wounded  inno- 
cence, and  the  business  proceeded  with  regularity  and  dispatch. 

Within  a  couple  of  hours  after  he  had  alighted  at  his  patrou'e 
gate,  comfortable  in  reputed  respectability  and  the  anticipation  o{ 
certain  benefits  to  accrue  to  him  from  the  job  in  hand,  Mr.  Sun- 
croft — having  declined  the  dinner  Mr.  Hammond  remained  to 
enjoy — rode  pensively  out  of  the  Briarwood  domain  ;  his  saddle- 
bags lighter  by  the  weight  of  the  bills  and  other  documents  con- 
signed to  the  legal  gentleman,  and  his  heart  heavier  for  the  wish 
that  many  others,  as  clever  as  himself,  have  heaved  with  the  boy 
who  slew  the  goose  of  the  golden  egg — that  he  had  contented 
himself  with  sure  and  equitable  profits,  instead  of  upsetting  a 
rmlly  promising  scheme  by  overreaching  and  peculation. 


315 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ELEANOR  had  been  four  days  at  home,  when  she  drove  over  td 
Briarwood,  to  prefer  a  "  daring  request,"  as  she  styled  it,  to  Mrs. 
Rashleigh.  It  was  for  a  week's  loan  of  her  daughter.  Elizabeth 
Hunter,  a  sister  of  Jessie's  husband,  was  to  pay  Mrs.  Moreau  a 
"visit  of  that  length,  and  she  was  hospitably  solicitous  that  she 
should  pass  the  time  pleasantly. 

"  I  thought,  too,  that  our  dear  Katherine  would  enjoy  herself 
in  her  company,"  said  Eleanor.  "  Our  neighborhood  is  lamenta- 
bly deficient  in  young  people,  and  she  will  be  pleased  with  Lizzy: 
She  is  a  charming  girl,  my  dear  ;"  to  Katherine.  "  More  refined 
and  less  boisterous  than  her  brother." 

"  I  liked  Mr.  Hunter,  extremely,"  rejoined  Katherine. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  did.  Strangers  are  not  apt  tc  admire  his 
manners.  They  are  too  free-and-easy.  But  we,  who  are 
acquainted  with  his  intrinsic  worth,  forget  his  oddities  Lkzie  is 
quite  a  belle  at  home,  and  it  is  my  intention  to  have  several  little 
social  gatherings  while  she  is  with  us.  We  will  take  excellent 
care  of  your  daughter,  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  May  she  go  ?" 

"  Katherine  can  consult  her  own  inclination,"  replied  Mrs. 
Rashleigh,  coldly — so  coldly,  that  the  flush  of  expectation  faded 
from  her  daughter's  face. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  could  not  endure  to  have  his  darling  disap- 
pointed in  any  wish,  however  trivial.  He  saw,  in  Eleanor's 
proposition,  a  harmless  and  praiseworthy  plan  for  enlivening  the 
retired  life  of  her  young  ccusin.  A.11  girls  liked  gay  society,  ant) 


816  NEMESIS. 

music  and  dancing.     He  had  seen  Katheriue's  eye  brighten  at 
the  idea,  and  he  took  the  responsibility  of  deciding  the  question. 

"  Your  invitation  is  indeed  an  attractive  one,  Eleanor,"  he 
said.  "  I  presume  that  Mrs.  Rashleigh  will  not  object  to  so  kinA 
a  device  for  our  daughter's  amusement,  unless  she  has  some 
weighty  reason  for  denying  you  and  her.  If  you  are  willing, 
Margaret,  I. say,  by  all  means,  let  J&atherme  go  to  her  cousin's 
to-morrow." 

"If  it  is  your  desire,  she  can  go,  certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

Katherine's  changing  color  and  expression  had  told  how  greatly 
she  longed  for  the  visit.  To  her,  it  promised  more  than  the  mere 
mingling  with'  young  and  lively  associates.  Montrouge  was  the 
adjoining  plantation  to  Ben  Lomond,  and  although  she  knew  that 
Malcolm  was  not  a  frequent  visitor  at  his  sister's,  she  was  confi- 
dent that  be  must  come  while  she  was  there.  The  "sociai 
gatherings  "  would  include  him,  and  she  could  not  fail  of  having 
a  merrymaking,  however  dull  the  rest  of  the  company  might  be. 
Besides  this  main  motive,  she  was  light-hearted  and  sportive, 
and  dearly  loved  a  frolic. 

"  Thank  you,  papa  !  Mamma,  you  are  very  kind  !"  she 
exclaimed,  as  the  consent  was  given.  "  I  know  that  I  shall  b« 
happy  !"  and,  turning  to  Mrs.  Moreau,  she  began  a  string  of 
questions  about  her  destined  companion,  Miss  Hunter,  with  the 
lively  curiosity  of  a  child. 

Mr.  Moreau's  haggard  looks  were  apparent  even  to  his  unob- 
servant uncle.  He  sat  apart,  while  his  wife  talked  with  her 
accustomed  gaiety,  and,  seeming  to  fall  uito  a  brown  study,  he 
picked  up  a  pen  that  lay  upon  a  writing-table  near  by,  with  which 
be  scribbled  incessantly  upon  a  sheet  of  paper,  until  the  Colonel's 
voice  awoke  him. 

"  Robert,  you  have  lost  flesh  this  summer.  A  vacation  would 
do  you  no  harm,  and  I  would  prescribe  a  tonic.  A  glass  of 
bitters  before  each  meal  would  strengthen  you." 


N  K  M  K  8  I  ft  .  317 

Mr.  Morcau  hitched  his  chair  back,  witL  an  uneasy  motion, 
anil  laughed. 

"  I  am  getting  old,  sir,  and  my  mind  runs  too  much  upon  the 
troubles  of  the  country." 

"  These  are  indeed  lawless  tunes,"  said  the  Colonel,  reverting 
mentally  to  the  rough  usage  he  had  received  in  a  political  assem- 
blage. "  Is  there  any  later  and  more  gloomy  intelligence  by  to- 
day's mail  ?"  turning  over  the  "  Enquirer,"  which  had  been 
brought  in  a  short  time  previous. 

"  No,  sir  ;  the  same  old  thing  !  But  the  depression  of  the 
money-market  is  tremendous." 

"  Fortunately  for  us,  it  is  comparatively  light  in  the  agricul- 
tural districts,"  returned  his  uncle,  while  Katherine  remarked, 
laughingly — "  Cousin  Robert,  you  are  a  monomaniac  upon  the 
evil  of  the  '  hard  times.'  One  would  say  that  you  were  being 
worn  away  by  friction  against  them." 

"  Perhaps  he  is  !"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  catching  his  embar- 
rassed look,  and  fixing  it  by  her  own — cool  and  clear. 

•'  Oh,  no,  madam  1  not  so  bad  as  that  I"  he  answered,  with  a 
desperate  effort  at  levity  ;  and  jumping  up,  he  reminded  his  wife 
that  she  had  ordered  an  early  tea. 

"  Are  you  losing  all  the  wit  you  were  born  with  ?"  asked 
Eleanor,  when  they  were  again  on  the  road. 

Her  manner  said  that  she  was  irritated  beyond  measure  ;  but 
her  husbaml  replied,  doggedly,  almost  savagely,  that  she  "  had 
never  given  him  credit  for  having  any  to  lose." 

"  It  is  enough  to  provoke  one  to  death  " — Eleanor  went  on— 
"  to  see  what  a  miserable  dissembler  you  are  !  I  do  not  believe 
you  could  keep  a  secret  to  save  your  life.  You  blushed  and 
stammered  like  a  school-boy,  while  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  eye  was 
reading  you  through,  if  a  mortal  eye  can  read  thoughts.  She 
seems  too  proud  to  notice  what  is  passing  around  her,  yet  nothing 
escapes  her.  I  am  morally  certain  she  suspects  something-  — 


SIS  NEMESIS. 

what,  I  cannot  say— -only,  she  would  have  kept  Katherine  awaj 
from  Montrouge  if  your  uncle  had  not  expressed  his  approval  so 
decidedly.  You  are  not  fit  to  take  care  of  yourself.  What  need 
is  there  to  croak  eternally  over  the  '  money  pressure,'  until  that 
saucy  minx  laughs  at  you  about  it  ?" 

"  A  man  that  is  on  the  rack  cannot  help  groaning  1"  said  Mr 
Moreau,  sulkily. 

"  And  these  groans  are  the  thanks  I  get  for  my  sacrifices  in 
your  behalf  i  Did  not  'you  sell  my  horse  last  week  to  relieve 
your  immediate  need  of  mouey  ?  Woodson  gave  you  a  good 
price  for  him,  and  I  hoped  that  I  should  hear  no  more  complaints 
for  a  fortnight,  at  least.  There  I  Did  I  not  charge  you  to 
sound  your  uncle  privately,  as  to  his  reasons  for  putting  his  busi- 
ness into  Mr.  Hammond's  care  ?  You  never  thought  of  it  while 
you  were  there  1" 

"  Where  was  the  use  ?  It  was  your  brother's  work.  Will 
Bancroft  saw  uncle  come  out  from  Argyle's  gate  last  Thursday 
morning,  and  dogged  him  to  Hammond's  door.  It's  as  plain  as 
daylight  can  make  it — the  way  they  are  playing  into  one  another's 
hands.  Old  Sancroft  is  as  mad  as  a  March  hare,  and  yet  dare 
not  say  a  word  for  fear  ugly  stories  may  get  abroad.  If  he  has 
tried  to  turn  an  extra  penny  for  himself,  while  handling  the  old 
gentleman's  money,  he  will  smart  for  it  when  Hammond  ferrets  it 
out,  if  Argyle  is  his  backer.  I  never  saw  a  fellow  in  such  a 
passion  as  Will  was,  when  he  talked  to  me  about  it  yesterday 
He  swore  that  he  would  be  avenged  on  Argyle,  and  marry  his 
Bweetheart  into  the  bargain." 

"  He  may  have  her  as  soon  as  he  can  get  her,"  responded 
Eleanor.  "  The  game  will  be  his  for  a  week,  and  if  he  cannot 
lecure  a  footing  in  the  circumstances  we  propose  for  his  accommo- 
dation, he  deserves  to  lose  her.  Here  is  Malcolm,  now  !  and  on 
his  way  to  see  her  !  Stop  and  speak  to  him,  and  do  as  I  bid  you  I" 

Malcolm  would  have  passed  on  with  a  nod  and  a  "  good  day  1' 


NEMESIS.  810 

bat  as  1m  brother-in-law  drew  up  his  horse,  he  could  not  avoid 
doing  the  same. 

"  Are  you  on  your  way  to  Briarwood  ?"  asked  Eleanor,  when 
the  salutations  were  over. 

"  I  am  1"  and  his  look  added :  "  What  business  is  that  of  yours  ?* 

"  We  are  just  from  there,"  said  his  sister.  "  I  forgot  an 
Important  inquiry  I  wished  to  make  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  Will 
you  take  a  message  from  me  to  her  ?" 

Malcolm  bowed  his  acquiescence. 

"  Please  say  to  her,  then — or,  no  1  I  will  not  trouble  you  I 
Mr.  Moreau,  suppose  we  ride  back  with  him  ?  It  will  not  take 
us  long.  I  had  best  see  Mrs.  Rashleigh  myself." 

"  Here  are  Robert  and  Eleanor  back  again,  and  Mr.  Argyto 
with  them  !"  observed  Colonel  Rashleigh,  who  was  standing  at 
the  window. 

"  They  have  forgotten  something,  probably,"  said  Katherine. 
going  into  the  hall  to  meet  them. 

"  Returned  like  a  bad  penny  !"  cried  Mrs.  Morcan.  "  Just  as 
we  met  Malcolm,  I  recollected  a  little  domestic  matter  about  which 
I  wanted  to  consult  your  mother,  and  as  I  had  hardly  seen 
brother  since  my  return,  we  resolved  to  drive  back  with  him." 

"  Now  that  you  are  here,  you  had  as  well  remain  to  supper," 
said  Colonel  Rashleigh,  hospitably.     "  It  will  be  quite  a  iamil 
party." 

Eleanor  looked  delighted,  as  she  really  was.  "  It  is  a  tempta- 
tion !  But  what  of  the  babies  at  home  ?" 

Mr.  Moreau's  wits  were  freshened  by  his  recent  lecture,  and  he 
answered  readily  enough  :  "  Oh  !  Sarah  can  be  trusted  with  the 
children,  if  that  is  the  only  stumbling-block  to  your  enjoyment." 

"  Then  you  will  stay  I"  said  Katheriue. 

She  reproached  herself  for  the  effort  it  cost  her  to  utter  the 
words  that  concluded  the  discussion.     Her  cousins  had  come  ovei 
y  to  ask  her  to  their  house,  aud  wuie  contriving  all  manner 


520  NEMESIS. 

of  amusements  for  her,  and  she  could  grudge  them  the  eh&re  o\ 
her  attention  which  they  would,  for  this  one  evening,  divert  from 
the  other  visitor  !  What  would  he  think  of  her  if  he  could  read 
the  selfish  regret  ?  What  ought  she  to  think  of  herself  ? 

But  for  Eleanor,  Katherine  would  have  had  a  difficult  task  tc 
produce  a  semblance  of  sociability  in  the  little  company.  Mrs. 
Rashleigh  was  always  taciturn,  and  this  evening  said  absolutely 
nothing  beyond  the  formulas  of  the  tea-table,  unless  when  a  direct 
question  was  put  to  her.  Colonel  Rashleigh  perceived  shortly 
that  he  had  not  contributed  to  his  own  pleasure  or  that  of  his 
family,  in  inviting  his  nephew  and  niece  to  remain,  and  his  annoy- 
ance was  showed  in  his  gravity  under  his  daughter's  sallies  and 
Eleanor's  industrious  efforts  to  extract  his  sentiments  upon  subjects 
which  she  fancied  would  be  congenial  to  his  taste.  Mrs.  Holt's 
thoughts  were  in  a  package  of  books  yet  unread,  received  the  pre- 
ceding day,  and  she  seemed  to  be  ignorant  that  the  conversation 
was  in  danger  of  sinking.  Malcolm's  vexation  at  his  sister's 
manoeuvre  was  augmented  by  the  discovery  that  Katheriue  was  to 
spend  a  week  at  her  house.  His  chagrin  was  the  more  pardonable 
when  we  learn  that  he  had  meditated  the  performance  of  great 
things  upon  this  evening  ;  had  decreed  that  it  should  end  his 
suspense,  one  way  or  the  other.  The  interviews  he  had  meant  to 
Becure — first  with  the  Colonel — afterward  with  Katherine  ;  the 
,-jright  visions  that  swam  in  an  atmosphere  of  glory  before  him, 
when  he  dwelt  upon  the  evident  favor  of  the  parent,  and  the 
tones,  word$  and  looks  of  the  daughter,  from  which  he  seemed  to 
draw  his  life  itself,  since  they  encouraged  a  hope  that  was  dearer 
than  life  ;  the  fruition  of  all  these  desires  was  delayed  by  the 
senseless  whim  of  a  woman  !  Patience  was  not  his  forte,  and  if  it 
had  been,  he  might  have  pleaded  his  exercise  of  the  cardinal  grace 
during  the  rtonths  that  had  elapsed  since  he  awoke  to  a  know- 
ledge of  his  love. 

Kathe;  me  had  never  seen  him  so  unapproachable,  ard  grieved 


NEMESIS.  321 

Becretly  over  the  change.  At  length,  he  made  au  opportunity  to 
request  some  music,  and  she  consented  with  joyful  readiness.  The 
rest  of  the  party  were  clustered,  by  chance,  near  the  centre  of  the 
apartment,  and  this  movement  put  a  space  between  them  and  the 
tw  o  who  went  to  the  piano  that  was  propitious  for  private  conver- 
sation The  warming  and  lighting  of  Malcolm's  face  did  not  pass 
Eleanor's  notice,  as  he  turned  toward  her,  to  get  a  chair  for  him- 
self, after  Katherine  was  seated.  Ere  the  middle  of  the  first 
piece  was  reached,  Mr.  Moreau  sauntered  up  to  the  other  side 
of  the  musician,  and  remained  there,  a  fixture,  the  more  hopeless 
because  of  the  lazy  neglig6nce  of  his  attitude — through  every 
march,  sonata  and  song. 

Content  that  her  sentinel's  position  barred  all  danger  of  sur 
prise  from  that  quarter,  Eleanor  crossed  the  room,  and  sat  down 
by  Mrs.  Holt.  From  praises  of  the  elaborate  needle-work,  that 
occupied  the  governess'  fingers,  she  glided  to  Katherine's  profi- 
ciency in  that  line  ;  thence,  to  her  accomplishments  in  other 
branches  of  young  ladies'  education,  sugaring  each  compliment  to 
the  pupil,  with  insinuated  flatteries  of  the  instructress.  Single- 
.  minded  Mrs.  Holt  was  captivated  by  the  sound  sense  and  affec- 
tionate disposition  of  one,  whom  she  had  previously  mistaken  for 
a  frivolous,  worldly  woman.  Katherine  was  dear  to  her  as  if  she 
were  her  own  child,  and  Mrs.  Moreau's  undisguised  complacency 
at  the  nearness  of  the  existing  relation  between  this  paragon  of 
beauty,  goodness  and  intelligence,  and  her  family,  did  honor  to  her 
heart  and  head.  Then,  Eleanor  achieved  the  most  cautious  and 
graceful  hint  of  stronger  bonds,  that  events,  now  transpiring, 
were  weaving.  It  was  perhaps  unbecoming  in  her  to  say  it — and 
still,  Katherine's  friends  might  be  gratified  by  the  testimony  of 
such  a  competent  witness,  to  the  excellence,  the  nobility  of-  soui, 
the  amiable  temper  of  him,  who  was  likely  to  become  one  of 
themselves.  He  had  his  peculiarities  ;  but  they  were  rathe/ 
excesses  of  virtue,  than  failings. 

14* 


322  NEMESIS. 

"  Despite  the  disparity  of  their  ages,  Katherine's  influence  tm! 
aim  will  mould  my  brother  " 

Here  Mrs.  Holt's  bewilderment  found  words  in  the  exclamation 
— "  Your  brother,  Mrs.  Moreaul  I  confess  that  I  do  not  in  the 
'east  understand  you  !" 

"  Surely,  Mrs.  Holt,  you  cannot  imagine  that  the  state  of  mj 
brother's  affections  is  unknown  to  ine.  Your  reserve  is  comn?  end- 
able  ;  but  there  can  be  nothing  imprudent  in  our  conversing 
about  a  matter  that  interests  us  mutually.  The  reciprocal  attach- 
ment of  two  persons,  so  dear  to  us  both,  should  be  a  common 
ground  of  confidence.  Yet,  if  your  sense  of  honor  leads-  you  to 
preserve  Katherine's  secret  so  jealously,  I  respect  the  scruple,  and 
am  silent." 

"  Miss  Rashleigh  has  not  confided  any  secret  to  me,"  said  the 
poor  lady,  perplexed.  "  You  'ought  to  be  best-informed  with  regard 
to  your  brother's  intentions,  but  I  must  believe  that  you  have 
misunderstood  him.  His  visits  to  Briarwood  are  for  Colonel 
Rftslileigh.  I  do  not  think  that  Miss  Rashleigh  has  the  least 
suspicion  that  they  are  meant  for  her.  I  know  that  she  is  not 
betrothed  to  him,  or  indeed,  to  any  one.  She  told  me  so,  seri- 
ously, only  yesterday — but  our  conversation  had  no  reference  to 
Mr.  Argyle.  It  related  to — another  person." 

"  Young  ladies  are  not  confined  to  the  strict  truth  in  these 
affairs,"  smiled  Eleanor. 

"  Katherine  Rashleigh  is  incapable  of  an  equivocation — how- 
iver  trivial  I"  rejoined  Mrs.  Holt,  mildly  indignant. 

Eleanor  drew  back,  so%  disconcerted,  so  mortified  at  her  mis- 
take, that  the  soft  heart  oi  the  governess  melted. 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  well,  Mrs.  Moveau,  not  to  let  the  sul> 
itance  of  this  conversation  gc  beyond  ourselves.  It  was  an 
embarrassing  error  on  your  side ;  but  you  were  not  in  fault  in  the 
mention  of  it.  Who  knows,"  she  said  more  lightly,  "  but  the 
*n.-h  may  be  UIIIHT  to  the  fact?  It  is  mo*t  likely  that  the  report 


V  E  M  E  S  I  8  .  323 

resembles  most  of  its  fellow-rumors  in  oeing  'neither  wholly  false 
nor  wholly  true,'  and  since  Mr.  Argyle's  friends,  and  it  is  to  b< 
presumed,  himself,  regard  the  event  it  shadows,  as  a  '  consumma- 
tion devoutly  to  be  desired,'  you  may,  in  the  end,  prove  to  be 
nearer  right  than  I  am." 

"  You  are  kind,  dear  Madam,  thus  to  palliate  my  unfortunate 
indiscretion.  I'accept  your  proposal  of  secrecy,  thankfully.  Not 
for  the  universe,  would  I  have  Colonel,  or  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  much 
less  Katherine,  hear  of  my  seeming  indelicacy,  my  premature 
allusion  to  what  I  was  led  to  believe  was  a  settled  matter." 

Malcolm  so  seldom  passed  a  night  away  from  home,  that  he 
knew  how  agonizing  would  be  Miss  Barbara's  uneasiness,  should 
he  deviate  from  his  custonj  on  this  occasion.  But  for  this  con- 
sideration, he  would  have  availed  himself  of  the  habits  of  the 
neighborhood  in  this  respect,  and  accepted  the  Colonel's  offer  of 
a  lodging.  Heretofore,  his  evening  visits  had  terminated  by  ten 
o'clock,  and  when  the  hours  had  fretted  themselves  away  to  this 
time,  and  his  sister  was  smilingly  immovable,  he  reluctantly 
ordered  his  horse. 

Our  hero  will,  we  fear,  lose  caste  with  the  youthful  adorers  of 
such  impassioned  suitors  as  recognize  no  claims  as  paramount  to 
those  of  the  love  that  has  stolen  brains  as  well  as  heart.  It 
sounds  hum-drum  and  wretchedly  unromantic  to  say  that  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  return  home — his  love  untold  ;  no  hint  of  it  given, 
and  with  the  prospect  of  a  week's  separation  before  him — rather 
than  rob  an  old  housekeeper  of  a  comfortable  night's  rest. 
Katherine,  herself,  who  was  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  his  rigid 
adherence  to  his  rule,  thought  it  rather  singular  that  he  could  not, 
for  once,  break  through  it.  For  one  instant,  hi  the  bustle  of 
leave-taking,  he  eluded  Eleanor's  vigilance,  and  bent  to  Kathe. 
rine's  ear. 

"  Do  not  ac-cuse  me  of  forgetfalness  or  neglect,  because  I 
Vfiunot  come  to  Mr.  M^n-au's.  while  you  are  there.  When  tv,< 


524  N  K  M  K  8  I  8  . 

right  season  arrives,  I  will  tell  you  why  I  stayed  away.  This  will 
be  a  .Ireary  week  to  me." 

Katherine's  heart  sank,  with  a  painful  beat,  which  felt  as  if  the 
life  had  throbbed  out  with  it ;  a  pang,  that  wrung  the  color  from 
her  lips,  as  they  motioned  the  "  good-bye  "  she  had  no  voice  to 
utter.  It  was  the  chill  and  shadow  of  the  first  cloud  that  crossed 
the  heaven  of  love.  She  had  taken  the  "  second  step  that  finds 
the  thorn  "  in  the  rose-strewn  path. 

Mr.  Moreau  was  miserably  drowsy  and  stupid  on  the  way 
home,  and  his  guardian  angel  stirred  him  up  sharply  with  her 
wand,  for  his  obtuseness  to  the  fine  points  of  her  strategy. 

"  I  declare,  Mr.  Moreau,  you  are  getting  as  cross  as  a  bear,  or 
as  any  other  woman's  husband.  You  used  to  be  tolerably  good- 
tempered,  and  to  show  some  gratitude  for  what  was  done  for  you. 
You  say  that  you  '  cannot  see  what  I  gained  by  going  back  with 
Malcolm,  except  a  dull  evening  and  his  ill-will.'  I  have  learned 
all  that  I  wanted  to  know,  in  order  to  proceed  without  fear  with 
my  plans.  They  are  not  engaged,  and  however  disposed  he  may 
have  been  to  hasten  a  declaration,  when  he  heard  that  she  was  to 
pay  us  a  visit,  he  had  no  chance  to  say  a  word  to-night." 

"  Why  cannot  he  come  to  see  her,  while  she  is  with  us  ?  or 
write  to  her  ?"  said  the  awakening  husband. 

"  Does  he  ever  come  to  our  house  ?  Has  he  crossed  the  tresh- 
old  since  he  met  Sancroft  there,  in  May  ?  If  nothing  else  hindered 
him,  he  is  too  proud  to  make  a  convenience  of  us,  that  he  may 
visit  her.  As  to  writing,  it  is  my  belief  that  matters  are  not  far 
enough  advanced  for  that,  and  if  they  are — does  it  follow  neces- 
sarily that  the  billet-doux  will  reach  her  ?  Accidents  have  hap- 
pened to  letters,  before  this,  that  prevented  them  from  reaching 
those  to  whom  they  were  directed." 

This  significant  piece  of  information  was  the  cud  of  bitter  fan- 
cies that  lasted  Mr.  Moreau  the  rest  of  the  way. 


SEIII'SIS. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE  Moreaus  entertained  handsomely.  Both  were  fond  of  gay 
society,  and  never  better  pleased  than  when  their  house  was  filled 
with  young  people.  Besides  Elizabeth  Hunter  and  Katherine 
Rashleigh,  there  were  several  others  invited  to  pass  some  days  at 
Montrouge.  Mr.  Sancroft,  Mr.  Blanton  and  Mr.  Armistead — 
the  latter  a  pleasant,  gentlemanly  fellow,  whom  Katherine  liked 
better  than  she  did  any  other  beau  of  her  acquaintance  (with  A 
mental  reservation  in  favor  of  one  whom  nobody  called  a  beau), 
were  the  stated  gallants  of  a  quartette  of  girls,  composed  of  the 
two  above-named,  Miss  Armistead  and  Miss  Selden,  a  sister  of 
Mrs.  Carrington.  It  required  little  time  for  a  party  formed  of 
these  materials,  and  managed  by  Eleanor  and  the  good-humored 
host,  to  become  merrily  social.  Even  Katherine,  whose  show  of 
spirits,  in  the  beginning,  was  feigned,  soon  found  the  sharp  edge 
of  her  disappointment  wearing  away,  and  herself  resolving  to  look 
on  the  sunny  side  of  a  painful  matter.  "  While  I  am  here,  the 
wisest  plan  is  to  get  what  pleasure  I  can,  and  to  contribute  as 
liberally  as  lies  in  my  power  to  the  happiness  of  others,"  she 
•easoned.  "A  week,  is  soon' gone." 

As  to  Malcolm's  motives  for  absenting  himself  from  her  pro 
sence  during  that  period,  she  had  faith  in  him  to  believe  that  they 
were  good  and  sufficient.  The  popular  voice  declared  him  a 
recluse,  and  he  had  not  concealed  from  her  his  dislike  to  general 
Company,  promiscuous  parties  and  the  like.  And,  as  is  the 
f'.shiou  with  women,  she  valued  his  preference  for  herself  th* 

iv,  tlut  si.e  stood  alone  in  this  respect     Toward  Mrs.  Morea» 


820  NEMESIS. 

ncr  heart  opened  every  hour.  The  warmth  and  giace  of  manner 
that  made  her  guests  feel  themselves  to  be  welcome  and  privileged 
inmates  of  her  home  ;  her  lively  conversation,  and,  perhaps  more 
than  aught  beside,  her  personal  resemblance  to  her  brother,  seemed 
to  bring  her  very  near  to  her  young  cousin.  The  hearty  "  Good 
night "  kiss  and  smile  of  affection  which  Katherine  bestowed  upon 
her  hostess  the  first  evening  of  her  stay  were  the  spontaneous 
expression  of  feeling,  and  Eleanor's  quick  perception  understood 
the  fullness  of  their  meaning. 

The  next  morning  was  intensely  sultry.  As  the  party  sat 
around  the  breakfast-table  one  and  another  compared  dates  and 
opinions  upon  other  warm  days — each  as  if  he  sought,  by  con. 
trast,  to  mitigate  the  discomfort  he  then  endured,  striving  to 
paint  his  story  in  more  fervid  colors  than  his  predecessor,  until 
the  ladies  declared  that  the  burdens  laid  upon  their  credulity 
were,  together  with  the  weather,  too  much  to  be  borne. 

At  each  corner  of  the  table  was  stationed  a  little  negro,  who 
swung  his  brush  of  peacock's  plumes  so  lazily  that  the  heated 
brows  of  the  company  received  scarcely  a  breath  of  cooler  air 
than  that  which  slumbered,  hot  and  heavy,  within  and  with- 
out doors.  The  flies  buzzed  shrilly  above  the  sweep  of  these 
inventions  of  the  enemy  for  their  disturbance — so  continuous  and 
sleepy  a  song,  that  the  annoyed  ear  hailed,  with  savage  satisfac- 
tion, the  fiercer  and  faster  hum  consequent  upon  the  occasional 
foray  of  a  hungry  hornet  into  their  mazes.  The  girls  were  pretty 
and  interesting,  with  their  white  dresses  and  flushed  cheeks  ;  the 
gentlemen,  too  inured  to  the  climate  to  suffer  lassitude  or  depres- 
sion of  spirits  £rom  the  high  temperature,  and  the  flow  of  chit- 
chat and  gallant  nothings  went  swimmingly  on. 

Mrs.  Moreau  alone  did  not  display  the  animation  of  the  pre- 
ceding day.  She  had  a  headache,  and  although  too  amiably 
polite  to  cast  a  shade  over  the  rest,  by  cross  .">r  grave  looks, 
vs  as  uot  successful  In  hiding  the  fact  that  she  was  in  severe  pain. 


ST  E  M  E  8  /  8  .  827 

jan  I  do  for  yon,  my  dear  cousin?"  inquired  Katho 
rine,  Bynjvthvbigly.  "A  headache,  in  this  weather,  must  be 
intolerable.  Is  there  no  remedy  for  it  except  sleep  and  quiet  ?" 

"  I  ueter  sleep  while  the  pain  continues,"  answered  Eleanor. 
"Oftentimes,  the  best  medicine  is  cheerful  conversation.  At 
others,  Mr.  Moreau  reads  aloud  to  charm  away  the  evil." 

"As  I  do  to  mamma  1  She,  too,  is  a  victim  to  this  terrible 
malady.  Let  me  come  to  your  room  when  you  lie  down,  as  you 
must  do  very  soon  after  breakfast,  to  bathe  your  head,  and  read 
or  talk  to  you." 

"  You  are  a  dear,  sweet  girl !"  said  Mrs.  Moreau,  gratefully. 
"  But  it  would  be  selfish  in  ine  to  rob  your  companions  of  you,  oi 
you  of  them." 

Katherine's  place  was  next  hers,  and  this  fragment  of  the 
breakfast  talk  was  by-play. 

"  I  forgive  you  the  theft,"  was  the  response,  "  and  pledge  my 
self  that  they  will  not  enter  a  complaint." 

Here  Sarah  brought  in  a  letter  and  laid  it  at  the  side  of  her 
mistress'  plate. 

"  From  Master  Malcolm,"  she  said. 

Eleanor  broke  the  seal  and  perused  it,  with  a  countenance  of 
increasing  seriousness.  There  was  a  pained,  troubled  expression 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  folded  it  up,  that  impressed  Katherine  with 
the  idea  of  a  foiled  hope  and  discontent  tinctured  with  im- 
patience. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Moreau,"  said  Mr.  Bancroft,  "shall  we  hare  the 
happiness  of  seeing  your  brother  in  our  midst  to-day  P' 

"  He  says  not." 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Mr.  Moreau. 

"  He  is  otherwise  occupied,  I  suppose,"  returned  his  wife,  after 
*  pau-c. 

"  I  had  hoped  that  his  domestic  habits  were  growing  losi 
inveterate,"  ob^i-vcd  Mr  Armistead.  "  The  accounts  I  have 


328  NEMESIS. 

heard  of  him  lately,  have  encouraged  me  to  look  for  bettet 
things." 

A  well-bred,  but  meaning  smile  went  the  rounds  of  the  table, 
unseen  by  Katherine,  whose  eyes  were  bent  upon  her  plate, 
Eleanor  only  was  grave,  and  her  silence  throughout  the  remainder 
of  the  meal,  was,  to  Katherine's  sensitive  fancy,  that  of  perturlsed 
neditation. 

Twelve  o'clock  and  no  abatement  of  the  heat  !  The  dogs  lay 
panting  in  the  porches  and  under  the  trees  ;  the  cows  stood  in 
the  shade  of  the  willows  that  overhung  the  spring  stream, 
motionless,  except  when  the  drowsy  tinkle  of  a  bell  told  that  its 
wearer  stooped  to  the  water  ;  the  very  insects  were  still  in  the 
grass,  which  parched  arid  twisted  in  the  white  blaze  that  was 
over  all.  The  gentlemen  lounged,  read  and  talked  in  the  hall 
that  ran  through  the  house,  with  doors  at  each  end.  The  girls 
had  fled  from  the  propriety  and  full  dress  of  the  parlor,  to  the 
easy  dishabille  of  their  chamber.  We  use  the  word  in  the  singu- 
lar number,  for  the  four  lodged  in  one  large  square  apartment, 
amply  lighted  by  six  windows,  all  gaping  for  the  breeze  that 
favored  none  of  them. 

Martha  Selden  and  Jenny  Armistead,  wrapped  in  loose  gowns, 
lay  upon  one  bed,  reading  different  volumes  of  the  same  novel ; 
Elizabeth  Huute'r,  similarly  attired,  dozed  and  fanned  herself 
alternately,  upon  the  other. 

"  Why  don't  you  lie  down,  Katherine  ?"  she  asked,  in  one  of 
her  semi-waking  intervals. 

"  Because  I  am  not  sleepy." 

"  Neither  was  I,  until  I  lay  down,  and  now  I  cannot  keep  my 
eyes  open.  Just  put  up  that  everlasting  stitching,  and  try  the 
experiment.  It  makes  me  feel  uncomfortable  in  conscience  to  see 
you  so  industrious." 

"  I  will  put  up  my  sewing  willingly,  for  I  am  lazily  inclined 
is  yself,  but  I  scarcely  ever  sleep  in  the  day-time.  Beside?,  I 


NEMESIS. 

promised  to  go  to  Mrs.  Morcau,  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  I  heard 
it  strike  just  now." 

"  Tell  her  we  hope  her  head  is  better,"  murmured  Elizabeth, 
turning  over  for  a  decided  siesta. 

Mrs.  Moreau's  room  was  darkened,  and  she  lay  upon  a  settee, 
a  bottle  of  scented  water  in  her  hand. 

"  How  are  you  now,  my  dear  madam  ?"  said  Katherine  solici- 
tously. 

"  I  am  suffering  excessively  !  How  good  it  is  in  you  to  leave 
pleasant  company,  and  subject  yourself  to  my  peevish  complaints  1" 

"  Hush  !  '  Cheerful  conversation '  was  the  prescription — was 
it  not  ?  I  shall  not  permit  you  to  slander  yourself." 

She  took  the  bottle  and  bathed  the  lady's  head,  then  picked 
up  her  fan  from  the  floor. 

"It  is  hard  work  to  play  the  agreeable,  sometimes  !"  said 
Eleanor.  "  I  am  in  a  poor  plight  for  it  to-day." 

"  The  headache  affects  the  spirits  more  than  any  othe?*  malady," 
remarked  Katherine. 

"  Tuat  is  not  it  1     Other  things  trouble  me." 

There  was  a  short  silence  ;  Katherine  doubting  her  right  to 
pry  into  the  nature  of  these  '  other  things,'  and  Mrs.  Moreaa 
musing,  with  her  eyes  shut. 

"  Ah,  well  1"  resumed  the  latter,  trying  to  smile.  "  We  all 
have  our  disappointments,  petty  and  great  ;  and  if  my  hopes 
deceive  me  sometimes  as  to  what  the  future  will  bring,  it  is  the 
common  lot  of  humanity.  Only,  I  feel  that  it  would  do  me  good 
to  talk  over  my  annoyances.  But  who  would  care  to  hear  tho 
tiresome  story  ?  Even  my  husband  laughs  and  says,  '  I  make 
much  ado  about  nothing' — the  dear  tease  of  a  fellow  1" 

"  Unless  it  is  something  which  I  ought  not  to  know,  you  are 
welcome  to  my  hearing  and  sympathy,"  replied  Katherine,  autici 
pating  some  housekeeper's  grievance  of  worthless  servants  01 
spoiled  preserves 


830  K  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

"  Something  \vLich  you  ought  not  to  know  !  I  could  almosl 
wish  it  were  1  But  what  am  I  saying  ?  My  head  pains  me  eo, 
now  and  then,  that  I  forget  myself.  No,  dear,  there  is  no 
objection  to  your  hearing  everything  that  I  would  say,  unles? 
the  tale  will  bore  you.  The  truth  is,  Katherine,  I  am  worried 
almost  to  death,  about  Malcolm  !" 

A  start  and  a  vivid  blush  showed  how  unexpectedly  his  name 
was  introduced. 

"You  cannot  conceive,"  continued  Mrs.  Moreau,  "of  the 
transformation  in  him,  as  he  now  appears,  from  what  he  was  in 
our  youth.  How  I  loved  that  boy  1  He  was  so  handsome,  so 
gifted,  so  generous,  that  Jessie  and  I  absolutely  worshipped  him. 
Marcia  Carrington  is  still  my  friend,  and  yet  I  have  wished,  i 
thousand  times,  that  she  had  never  been  born,  or  that  she  had" 
never  crossed  Malcolm's  path.  You  must  have  heard  the  history 
of  that  old  affair  ?" 

"  I  never  have  1"  said  Katherine,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Indeed  I  I  supposed  that  you  could  not  have  lived  in  this 
neighborhood  above  four  months,  and  not  have  listened  to  a  dozen 
versions  of  it.  Really,  we  cannot  be  such  a  gossiping  commu- 
nity as  we  are  reputed  to  be.  Are  you  not  mistaken,  dear  ? 
There  was  a  revival  of  talk  about  this  love-scrape,  when  Marcia 
was  here  in  the  spring  and  summer,  and  Malcolm's  attentions  to 
her  fanned  the  flame.  You  may  have  forgotten  conversations 
apon  a  topic  that  did  not  interest  you  particularly)  but  have  you 
never  heard  Jessie  or  myself,  or  Miss  Nancy  Wilkinson  speak  of 
this,  in  connection  with  Malcolm's  odd,  misanthropical  ways  ?" 

"  I  never  have  1"  repeated  Katherine,  precisely  as  before. 

"  How  very  strange  !  Well,  then,  you  must  know  that  they 
were  engaged — Marcia  and  Malcolm — before  he  Went  to  Europe. 
He  was  absent  two  years,  and  meanwhile,  she  became  acquainted 
with  Stanhope  Carrington.  Marcia  is  one  of  the  best  creatures 
in  the  world,  yet  she  has  no  positive  character  of  her  own.  Mra 


M  K  M  K  S  I  8  .  331 

Belden  is  a  woman  of  strong  seu.se  and  a  strong  will  ;  \erj  fond 
of  her  children,  and  ambitious  that  they  should  marry  advan- 
My.  Malcolm  had  nothing  except  what  poor  papa  would 
leave  him  at  his  death,  aijd  he  was  then  a  man  in  perfect  health, 
who  might  live  ten  or  fifteen  years  longer.  Mr.  Carriugtou  waa 
wealthy  and  his  own  master,  very  good-natured  and  desperately 
iu  love.  So  Mrs.  Selden  reasoned  Marcia  out  of  her  early 
attachment,  which,  with  a  girl  of  her  disposition,  might  well 
have  died  of  itself,  while  Malcolm  was  out  of  sight.  The  dear 
boy  came  home,  so  happy  and  hopeful,  that  Marcia  had  not  the 
heart  to  undeceive  him  immediately,  and  the  farce  of  the  engage- 
ment was  kept  up  for  a  season.  This  made  the  blow  heavier  when 
it  did  fall.  It  nearly  deprived  him  of  reason,  and  from  that  day  to 
tliis,  he  Las  been  an  altered  being — the  wreck  you  see  him  now." 

"  The  wreck  !"  Where  was  there  another,  unscathed  m  feel- 
ing and  mind,  who  was  his  peer  ?  The  whole  soul  of  the  girl 
going  out  in  love  and  compassion  for  the  lonely,  wronged  man. 
Without  one  thought  of  self,  she  longed  to  comfort  him  ;  to  com- 
pensate to  him  for  the  bitter  trial,  the  solitude  of  heart  and  home 
that  had  succeeded  its  agony. 

"  After  the  marriages  of  Jessie  and  myself,  and  our  father's 
death,"  pursued  Eleanor,  "  Malcolm  resided  at  the  homestead 
with  his  old  nurse,  and  obstinately  denied  himself  to  all  his  former 
friends.  His  is  not  a  common  nature.  The  feeling  that  by 
Marcia  was  so  easily  overcome,  was  with  him  a  passion  such  as 
no  man  can  experience  a  second  time.  I  knew  this,  for  to  me 
alone  had  lie  poured  out  his  whole  heart.  When  he  told  mo 
that  he  could  never  love  again  as  he  had  loved,  I  believed  him, 
but  when  he  declared  his  intention  never  to  marry,  I  hoped  that 
$e  might  break  his  resolution.  It  seemed  to  me  expedient  and 
.desirable  that  he  should  seek  out  some  lovely  and  intelligent 
woman  who  would  be  a  congenial  companion  and  solace,  if  sh« 
could  not  cheer  him.  I  felt  that  it  was  his  duty  to  make  th« 


332  N  fc  M  E  8  I  8  . 

attempt  to  transfer  his  affections,  now  that  Marcia  was  lost  to 
him  forever.  He  would  never  hear^the  proposition  with  the 
least  patience,  and  finally  I  ceased  to  urge  it.  Thus  stood  mat- 
ters, when,  for  the  first  time  since  their  sad  parting,  he  met  hia 
early  love  last  May.  By  the  way,  you  were  with  me  at  the  time, 
Do  you  recollect  going  to  a  meeting  of  Presbytery  at  Deep  Run 
Church,  soon  after  your  coming  to  the  county  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  And  there  meeting  with  my  brother  and  Mrs.  Carrrington  ?'; 

"Yes,  madam." 

"  I  had  flattered  myself  that  an  interview  with  Marcia  would 
go  far  toward  curing  Malcolm.  Ten  years  had  wrought  many 
alterations  in  the  pretty  girl  he  had  loved  so  ardently.  Mrs." 
Carrington  is  a  tine  looking  woman  yet,  but  so  unlike  the  sylph- 
like  figure  whose  blooming  face  he  thought  the  perfection  of 
feminine  loveliness,  that  I  dared  to  believe  he  would  be  thoroughly 
disenchanted  at  sight  of  her.  I  saw  that  he  was  agitated,  cold 
and  reserved  as  he  appeared  to  a  casual  looker-on  of  the  interview. 
He  told  me  afterward,  that  it  was  like  tearing  open  aa  old 
wound.  He  could  not  remain  in  her  presence  more  than  a  minute, 
and  made  an  excuse  to  hurry  away.  I  advised  him  not  to  see 
her  again,  but  he  could  not  resist  the  fascination  that  drew  him 
into  her  presence.  While  others  rejoiced  at  his  reappearance  in 
our  social  gatherings,  I  mourned  in  secret  over  his  infatuation, 
and  ultimately  determined  upon  an  appeal  to  his  better  self." 

Even  Mrs.  Moreau  was  obliged  to  pause  here,  choked  as  if> 
appeared  by  her  emotions,  in  reality  by,  the  monstrous  men- 
daciousness  of  her  fluent  story.  By  the  aid  of  the  scent-bottle 
ahe  recovered  her  speech  and  composure. 

"  I  represented  the  suffering  he  was  bringing  on  himself ;  the 
needless  and  cruel  embarrassment  under  which  Marcia  labored 
whenever  he  approached  her  ;  the  fearful  consequences  that  must 
attend  upon  Mr.  Carrington's  discovery  of  his  unconqucred  attack' 


H  E  M  E  8  I  6  333 

meut,  and  besought  him  once  again  to  seek  other  associations  ; 
to  enter  into  other  relations  which  would  in  time  beguile  him 
from  this  dangerous  dream.  He  was  much  moved,  promised  to 
reflect  seriously  upon  my  counsel,  and  we  parted.  Upon  mj 
return  I  met  him  at  your  house,  and  was  relieved  to  see  him 
looking  well  and  in  tolerable  spirits.  I  had  previously  written  to 
him  who  were  to  compose  our  party  for  this  week,  and  pressed 
him  to  join  us,  but  had  received  no  reply.  That  evening,  on  our 
way  home,  he  said  that  he  could  not  come.  Yesterday  I  ven- 
tured to  dispatch  another  invitation,  an  answer  to  which  I  had 
this  morning.  Here  it  is  1" 

Katherine's  hand  came  into  contact  with  hers  as  she  passed 
over  the  note.  It  was  cold  as  ice,  and  for  a  second  the  paper 
quivered  so  that  she  could  not  read.  Then,  steady  and  plain  — 
she  saw  the  following  : 

MY  DEAR  ELEANOR  :  Your  kind  note  was  brought  to  me  an  hour  ago. 
Since  then,  I  have  fought  in  vain  with  the  multitude  of  sad  thoughts  that 
overwhelm  me  in  my  lonely  retreat.  I  have  tried  —  labored  diligently,  to 
follow  the  advice  you  gave  me  before  you  went  away  in  July.  1  resolved 
to  bury  the  past  ;  to  begin  a  new,  calm  life,  which  should  by  and  by  bring 
me  the  happiness  you  promised.  I  cannot!  It  is  my  misfortune,  not  a 
crime,  that  I  am  faithful  to  the  memory  of  what  you  term  "  a  dream,  and 
a  mischievous  one."  I  am  not  like  other  men.  Why  do  further  violence 
to  ray  nature  t 


I  send  you  the  fragment  I  penned  last  night,  in  my  excitement  —  in 
one  of  what  Aunt  Hub  calls  my  "moods"  —  that  you  may  understand 
»hut  a  fitful  creature  your  brother  is.  To-day  I  am  cool  and  resolute. 
The  scheme  I  abandoned  in  my  retrospective  visions  of  the  night-time,  is 
promising  in  the  day-light.  Ask  an  explanation  of  these  hints  when  yo< 
*ee  me.  But  my  resolution  is  too  new  —  is  not  sufficiently  seasoned,  to 
bear  me  safely  through  the  meetings  I  must  undergo  at  your  house.  I 
nerer  see  Martha  S  -  without  a  pang  and  a  deadly  struggle.  I  co.nno. 
meet  her  where  I  was  wont  in  "  lang  syne,"  to  see  her  fairer  prototype 
Call  me  cowardly  if  you  like.  I  acknowledge  it.  But  the  poor  -vretck 


S3*  NEMESIS. 

who  las  lived  through  ninety-nine  tortures  is  no  more  willing  to  emlnn 
the  hundredth  than  he  was  the  first. 

Excuse  me  to  your  visitors  as  well  as  you  can.  Please  say  especially  to 
Miss  Rashleigh  that  I  regret  my  inability  to  pay  my  respects  to  her  at 
present. 

Your  loving,  but  wayward  brother, 

MALCOLM  AROTLK. 

Katherine  Rashleigh  was  proud  as  well  as  affectionate.  The 
words  that  pierced  her  bosom  like  so  many  arrows,  outraged  a 
spirit  that  sprang  to  its  arms.  The  heart  that  seemed  bleeding 
its  last  from  these  wounds,  was  yet  capable  of  auger  so  deep, 
indignation  so  tsteru,  that  its  dying  groans  were  hushed  at  their 
command. 

Mrs.  Moreau  had  looked  for  a  scene — pathetic  or  stormy.  She 
saw,  instead,  a  composure  which  her  years  ,of  practice  had  not 
taught  her  to  emulate.  Katherine  turned  the  letter,  and  read  it 
once  more.  It  was  no  fond,  silly  lingering  over  the  familiar 
uharacters,  although  the  first  sight  of  them  had  caused  a  rush  of 
Badly  sweet  thoughts — recollections  of  the  treasured  notes  she 
had  at  home ;  locked  away  from  other  eyes,  and  strewed  with 
sweetbrier  leaves — the  flower  to  which  he,  had  likened  her,  and 
which  he  confessed  he  loved  for  her  sake.  On  the  hot  air,  there 
seemed  to  steal  to  her  a  breath  of  their  perfume,  as  her  eye?  fell 
upon  the  fatal  letter.  It  haunted  her  no  more,  when  she  had 
read  half-way  down  the  page.  The  second  perusal  was  a  delibe- 
rate binding  into  sheaves  of  the  harvest  of  dragon's  teeth,  whose 
seed  were  sown  in  her  rash  confidence  in  a  stranger  ;  her  surrender 
of  her  heart's  whole  wealth  at  a  few  specious  words,  a  few  looks 
that  promised  her  a  recompense  for  her  loss. 

This  "  new,  calm  life,"  that  was  to  bring  him  forge tfulness  of 
the  past ;  this  "  scheme,"  abandoned  in  his  mourning  over  that 
past ;  re-resolved  upon,  in  the  daylight  of  sober,  selfish  reflections  I 
Did  Mrs.  Moreau  indeed  require  an  explanation  of  these  "hints, 


NEMESIS. 

or  were  brother  and  sister  alike  skilled  in  deception  ?  ilad 
Eleanor  penetrated  the  secret  of  her  wasted  love,  and  taken  this 
method  to  check  her  blind  folly?  With  the  suspicion,  came  a 
curl  of  scorn  to  the  red  lip,  and  a  fiery  spark  to  the  eye. 

"  I  fear  that  I  have  nut  acted  honorably  in  reading  this  note," 
ihe  said,  gravely.  "  It  was  meant  for  your  eye  alone." 

"  You  read  it  at  my  request.  If  there  is  any  blame,  it  rests 
with  me.  But  tell  me  1  can  you  understand  it  ?  Does  it  not 
appear  to  you  as  an  incoherent,  mysterious  affair  ?  To  what 
scheme  does  he  allude  ?  And  how  could  his  coming  hither  affect 
it  ?  It  is  an  enigma  to  me  1" 

"  If  you  have  not  the  key,  it  should  be  a  greater  puzzle  to  me 
— a  mere  acquaintance,"  returned  Katherine.  "  He  promises  an 
explanation,  you  observe." 

45  It  is  a  dreadful  thing,  when  a  man  throws  his  whole  life-tuno 
away  for  a  boyish  fancy  1"  said  Eleanor,  sadly.  "  I  am  afraid 
that  he  is  bent  upon  some  desperate  step — what  I  cannot  divine." 

"  Nothing  worse  than  matrimony  probably,"  said  Katherins, 
with  bold  carelessness.  "In  exchange  for  his  weather-beaten 
heart,  he  hopes  to  get  one,  whole,  uninjured  and — womanly  1  thi»t 
shall  play  lantern  to  a  scene,  which  the  sun  has  forsaken  forevc  r. 
It  is  the  way  with  men.  Unlike  the  rest  of  his  kind,  as  he  sa;* 
he  is,  he  yet  resembles  them  in  this." 

"  Do  not  despise  him,  Katherine  1"  Mrs.  Moreau  lifted  her 
eyes,  with  a  sudden  dawn  of  painful  consciousness  in  them.  It 
WSLS  as  if  a  startling  revelation  had  been  whispered  in  her  ear. 

"  Despise  him,  Mrs.  Moreau  !     Why  should  I  not  continue  to 
respect  him  ?     I  honor  his  fidelity,  and  do  not  wonder  that  he 
finds   it   impossible   to  transfer  his  affections.       It  is  a  genuu 
romance,  that  has  wiled  away  a  sultry  hour,  to  my  entire  satis- 
faction." 

"  What  had  I  better  write  in  reply  f 

"  I  can  dictate  nothing  that  your  sense  of  right  and  your  «* 


36 


N  K  M  E  8  I  8  . 


terly  sympathy  woild  not  prompt  you  to  say.  Pray  thank  him 
Cor  his  message  of  compliments  to  myself,  and  nre&ent  mine  in 
return '' 

The  chamber  was  growing  closer  and  more  gloomj  ;  the  still- 
ness weighed  upon  the  senses,  as  does  the  premonition  of  evil 
Upon  the  heart 

"It  is  very  dark  1"  complained  Eleanor,  looking  up  at  the 
window. 

Katherine  replied  by  drawing  aside  the  thick  curtain.  A  pall 
of  bluish  grey  enshrouded  the  heavens,  tossed  up,  here  and  there, 
into  black  waves,  and  edged,  at  the  horizon  with  a  brassy  tinge 
that  reflected  a  lurid  light  over  the  landscape.  The  air  had  a  suL 
phurous  smell,  and  the  lungs  labored,  as  they  inhaled  it.  There  was 
a  solemn  pause  throughout  Nature,  as  if  the  mighty  heart  of  the 
Earth  had  ceased  to  beat,  in  the  anticipation  of  the  coming  shock. 

"  There  will  be  a  violent  storm  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Moreau,  for- 
getting her  headache,  and  rising  briskly,  "  I  must  have  the  win- 
dows closed  I" 

She  left  the  room,  and  her  call  to  the  servants  was  followed  by 
a  banging  to  of  doors  and  slamming  down  of  windows,  all  over 
the  house. 

Katherine  remained  at  the  casement  ;  enchained  by  a  species 
of  fascination  in  the  resemblance  of  the  wild,  lowering  scene  with- 
out to  the  sullen,  awful  calm  that  brooded  upon  her  soul.  She 
was  free  to  weep  unobserved,  if  she  were  so  disposed,  but,  as  with 
the  froM'niug  clouds  overhead,  some  of  the  angry  electricity  must 
be  spent,  before  the  rain  could  fall. 

As  a  zigzag  stream  of  fire  tore  through  the  bosom  of  the  cloud, 
and  the  growling  thunder  replied,  she  descried  a  figure  gallop- 
ing along  the  public  road,  which  ran  but  three  or  four  hundred 
yards  from  the  front  of  the  house.  It  passed  the  gate — then,  as 
a  second  flash  brought  the  thunder  nearer,  it  turned  and  entem 
the  Moutrouge  plantation. 


K  E  M  K  6  I  8  .  537 

Katherme  had  known  him  at  oiice.  There  was  not  such 
another  rider  in  the  county.  With  the  speed  of  the  wind  that 
followed  fust  after  him,  he  swept  down  the  fane.  Mr.  Moreau  nil 
out  to  welcome  him,  but  he  rode  on  to  the  stables,  that  his  dumb 
favorite  might  be  safely  housed.  This  trivial  instance  of  his  care 
for  creatures  lowly  and  helpless,  awakened  a  sickening  pain  in 
Katherine's  breast.  She  left  the  window,  to  seek  her  room,  and 
prepare  for  the  inevitable  interview  she  now  dreaded  unspeak- 
ably. 

Mrs.  Moreau  met  hei  at  the  door. 

"  Malcolm  has  come  !"  she  said,  in  a  guarded  tone,  lest  she 
might  be  overheard.  "You  will  not  suffer  what  I  have  told  you 
to  affect  your  manner  toward  him — :or  your  feelings — will  you  ?" 

Katherine  was  able  to  laugh — to  confront  the  searching  eyes 
tnat  questioned  of  deeper  things  than  did  the  uttered  words. 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?  If  Mr.  Argyle  were  my  friend,  instead 
of  papa's — my  lover,  and  not  Mrs.  Carrington's  rejected  suitor, 
you  might  indeed  feel  uneasy.  But  set  your  mind  at  rest.  Yonr 
secret,  or  your  brother's — whichever  it  may  be  called — is  safe 
with  me." 

As  Malcolm  entered  the  front  hall,  with  his  host,  he  saw  the 
flutter  of  her  white  skirt  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  heard,  in 
the  echoing  gallery  above,  the  roundelay  she  warbled  to  ha 
chamler  door — 

"  Twa«  within  a  mile  of  Edinboro'  town, 

In  the  rosy  time  of  the  year ; 
Sweet  flowers  bloomed,  and  the  grass  was  down 

And  each  shepherd  wooed  his  dear. 
Bonnie  Jock  7,  blithe  and  gaj — " 


338  Jf  E  M  E  fl  I  8  . 


CHAPIER  XXIV 

A  PKAL  of  thunder  jarred  the  house  to  its  foundations,  M 
Katherine  entered  her  room,  and  a  concert  of  screams  broke  forth 
from  the  young  ladies  all  huddled  together  in  the  middle  of  fhe 
floor. 

"  Katherine  Rashleigh  !  how  can  you  sing  ?"  cried  Martha 
Selden.  "  Are  you  not  afraid  ?  I  think  it  is  almost  wicked.  It 
is  like  tempting  Providence." 

"  My  only  dread  is  lest  we  should  keep  dinner  waiting,"  said 
Katherine,  "  I  expected  to  find  you  all  dressed." 

"  Who  can  think  of  dress,  in  such  a  fearful  storm  ?"  replied 
Elizabeth,  half  crying.  "  I  am  so  terribly  scared — oh  1" 

Again  the  three  threw  their  arms  about  each  other's  necks 
and  hid  their  blanched  faces  in  each  other's  dishevelled  hair  ; 
while  Katherine,  in  the  reaction  of  feeling  affected  by  the  ludicrous 
Bcene,  dropped  into  a  chair  and  laughed  until  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks.  At  another  time,  she  would  have  experienced 
something  of  awe,  if  not  of  alarm,  at  the  war  of  the  elements  ; 
would  assuredly  have  been  superior  to  the  affectation  of  presumptu- 
ous levity,  with  which  she  astonished  her  trembling  comrades 
Proceeding  to  the  business  of  the  toilet  which  the  frightened  trw 
were,  in  their  individual  cases,  incapable  as  yet  of  completing,  she 
loosened  her  hair  and  shook  it  out,  admonishing  them  anew,  that 
"  the  table  was  set  for  dinner,  when  she  came  up." 
"  How  brave  you  are  !"  said  Elizabeth,  tremulously. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  that  however  terrified  1  might  be,  I  should  still 


NEMESIS.  339 

like  Csesar,  resolve  to  die  decently,"  replied  Katherine.  '  Ima- 
gine our  gallant  knights  rushing  up  at  our  shrieks,  and  discover- 
ing us  in  oar  present  unbecoming  plight.  I  mean  to  faint  away 
decorously — gracefully — after  I  am  dressed,  if  the  Storm-Bang 
will  favor  me  with  a  clap  sufficiently  loud  for  an  excuse." 

"  I  don't  believe  that  you  are  afraid  of  anything  !"  said  Jenny 
Armistead.  "  If  I  were  to  talk  as  you  do,  I  should  expect  to  be 
struck  dead  as  a  judgment." 

Katherine  smiled — her  face  ghastly  for  a  second,  with  the  pale 
glare  of  the  lightning.  Her  unsaid  thought  was  that  it  would 
be  a  kind  bolt,  which  should  end  a  life  so  barren  and  aimless  aa 
hers  was  how. 

Quieted  in  some  degree,  by  her  example  and  presence,  the  girla 
summoned  the  thought  and  strength  requisite  to  enable  them  to 
finish  their  dressing,  and,  still  clinging  together,  descended  to  the 
drawing-room.  A  pallid  and  interesting  group,  they  presented 
themselves  before  the  gentlemen,  whose  stock  of  gay  and  comfort- 
ing sayings  bade  fair  to  restore  the  lost  b?oom  and  smiles.  Kathe- 
riiie  came  in  last  and  alone  ;  her  unaltered  complexion  and  col- 
lected air,  a  striking  contrast  to  the  pretty  terrors  of  the  others. 

A  glance  showed  her,  Malcolm,  rising  with  his  companions  at 
the  ladies'  entrance,  and  the  smile,  that  bronght  a  glad  light  to 
his  eye,  as  it  fell  upon  her.  Again  that  sick  pain  at  her  heart  ! 
Such  a  throb  Eve  may  have  felt,  in  looking  back  upon  the  Para- 
dise which  could  never  more  be  hers.  He  seemed  about  to  ad- 
vance ;  his  hand  was  partly  outstretched — but,  marking  the  for- 
mal, set  expression  of  her  countenance,  he  paused  and  bowed  in- 
stead. She  returned  a  deep  courtesy,  and  took  a  seat  offered  to 
her  by  Mr.  Moreau.  Mr.  Sancroft  established  himself  in  another 
by  her  side,  without  the  delay  of  a  moment. 

'*  You  are  a  heroine,  Miss  Rashleigh  1" 

"  Indeed  she  is  !"  called  out  Elizabeth.  *'  She  has  be^n  saying 
the  funniest  things  upstairs  !  laughing  at  us  and  carrying  on,  as 


540  NEMESIS. 

if  nothing  were  the  matter.  I  never  saw  such  a  girl  before,  in 
m/  life  I" 

"Nor  I !"  said  Mr.  Sancroft,  meaningly,  and  inaudibly  to  all 
excepting  her  to  whom  he  spoke. 

A  redder  flush  arose  to  Katherine's  cheek  at  his  manner.  She 
would  have  replied  with  a  spirit  that  might  check  further,  and 
perchance,  more  offensive  compliments  ;  but,  happening  to  look 
at  Malcolm,  she  saw  his  penetrating  gaze,  the  slight  curve  of  the 
mouth,  that  indicated  his  knowledge  of  the  purport  of  the  remark. 
Hers  was  too  noble  and  pure  a  nature  to  stoop  to  deliberate 
coquetry,  but,  just  now,  she  was  not  herself.  She  had  but  one 
formed  design — to  hide  her  deadly  hurt  ;  to  brave  his  scrutiny 
and  baffle  it,  as  she  did  the  prying  eyes  of  the  world.  She  could 
not  talk  with  him,  without  attracting  attention  by  her  haughtiness  ; 
or,  should  this  prove  a  treacherous  support,  an  agitation  still 
more  destructive  to  her  plan  ;  yet  a  studied  avoidance  of  him 
would  be  noticed  by  Mrs.  Moreau,  if  by  no  one  else.  In  these 
circumstances,  Mr.  Sancroft  was,  for  the  only  time  in  a'l  their  in- 
tercourse, the  most  welcome  person  who  could  have  approached 
her.  Did  the  crafty  suitor  suspect  this  ?  Malcolm's  aversion  to 
him  was  better  understood  by  him,  than  by  the  girl  whose  wooers 
they  both  were.  His  ingenuity,  ever  fertile,  could  have  invented 
no  surer  method  of  keeping  his  rival  aloof  than  his  own  contiguity 
to  Katherine.  In  pursuance  of  this  policj,  he  handed  her  in  to 
dinner,  and  was  her  attentive  neighbor  there  ;  while  Malcolm, 
totally  indifferent  as  to  who  his  companion  was,  aroused  himself 
to  appear  agreeable  to  Martha  Selden,  whom  seeming  accident 
placed  next  to  him. 

She  resembled  Mrs.  Carringtor.  in  features,  voice,  and  mauner. 
It  might  have  been  the  Marcia  of  his  boyhood,  who  talked  with 
him  of  courtships,  abstract  and  practical,  and  related  anecdotes 
of  her  home  and  family,  where  "  Ma's  "  rule  was  still  despotic, 
»aried  by  a  start  and  a  faint  exclamation,  as  the  lightning  played 


N  B  M  E  8  I  8  .  34:1 

near,  or  the  thunder's  reverberation  drowned  all  other  sounds 
Kathefine  sat  opposite,  chatting  with  the  enraptured  Saucroft. 
Malcolm  could  no  longer  mistake  the  fact  of  her  altered  bearing 
toward  himself  ;  however  vainly  or  erroneously  he  might  specu- 
late as  to  the  origin  of  her  coldness.  During  half  the  time  they 
were  at  table,  he  wavered  between  the  impulse  to  depart  in  the 
storm,  immediately  the  meal  was  concluded,  or  to  remain  and 
ascertain,  at  all  hazards,  who  or  what  had  poisoned  her  mind 
against  him.  If  his  pride  revolted  at  the  idea  of  engaging,  in 
the  lists,  the  despised  pettifogger,  it  bristled  equally  at  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  should  leave  him  the  field.  A  trifle  sent  the 
latter  scale  up  to  the  beam.  • 

"  Elizabeth  1  Jenny  !  Katherine  !  do  hear  this  naughty  man  1" 
cried  Miss  Selden,  childishly.  "  He  says  that  all  women  are 
mercenary — that  he  never  saw  one  who  would  not  sell  her  heart 
for  money  !" 

*'  Shocking  !"  said  Elizabeth. 

"  Abominable  1"  ejaculated  Jenny. 

"  High  treason  1"  denounced  Mr.  Armistcad,  solemnly.  "  Re- 
tract, Mr.  Argyle  I  and  sue  for  mercy  to  the  gracious  powers 
that  be  1" 

"  I  deny  the  justice  of  the  indictment,"  replied  the  accused. 
"  Miss  Martha  has  mistaken  my  meaning  " 

"  You  said  that  every  lady  had  her  price  I"  interposed  thai 
damsel. 

"  Granted  !  but  not  that  that  price  was  to  be  told  in  gold  or 
silver  coin.  I  should  never  be  pardoned  by  your  sex,  were  I  to 
intimate  that  a  woman's  heart  is  ever  given  unasked,  unbought. 
Ergo,  each  of  yon  has  your  price — /Ike  for  like — heart  for 
heart — love  for  love.  Equitable  barter  is  the  law  of  Cupid's 
Court." 

"  And  you  think  a  man's  heart  is  WDrth  a  woman's  !"  said 
Elizabeth,  doubtfully. 


342  N  E  M  E  3  I  8  . 

"  I  do  not  say  that,  only  that  a  woman  must  believe  it,  or  shf 
would  not  surrender  hers." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Katherine  ?  Are  we  cheated  in  such 
oargains  ?  or,  do  we  generously  yield  the  advantage  ?  01 ,  is  it  ap 
2ven  exchange  ?"  interrogated  Elizabeth,  playfully. 

Jesting  as  the  discussion  had  been,  up  to  this  appeal,  Mal- 
colm's look  was  eager,  as  he  listened  for  the  reply.  How  clear 
and  sweet,  and  yet  how  destitute  of  its  usual  softness,  was  her 
tone  1 

"  If  nothing  is  kept  back  from  the  price  for  which  a  woman 
stipulates,  she  receives  a  just  equivalent ;  or,  as  Mr.  Argyle  says, 
she  thinks  it  is  all  right,  which  arfiounts  to  the  same  thing.  I 
incline  to  the  opinion,  however,  that  Ananias  and  Sapphira  left 
a  large  family,  whose  male  descendants  are  numerous." 

"  I  don't  understand  you  !"  said  Martha  Selden.  "  What 
does  she  mean,  Mr.  Argyle  ?" 

"  Tlie  question  is  one  of  sale  or  barter,  not  of  charity,  Miss 
Rashleigh,"  rejoined  Malcolm.  n  Still  your  allusion  is  apt,  and  not 
difficult  to  be  understood.  You  imply  that  while  women  are  honest 
in  their  payment  of  heart-coin,  and  transfer  the  wealth  of  their 
affections  to  the  last  farthing,  men  sometimes — most  frequently, 
indeed — tender  half  or  even  quarter  hearts  in  exchange.  Have 
I  interpreted  rightly  ?" 

"  You  have,  and  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  courteous 
explanation." 

Their  looks  met.  Hers  was  instantly  averted  ;  but  Malcolm 
thought  no  more  of  speedy  departure.  He  would  stay  until  he 
found  the  solution  of  all  this. 

The  thunder  and  the  lightning  ceased  soon  after  dinner  ;  but 
the  heavy  rain  continued  without  intermission.  Outwardly,  it 
was  a  lively  company,  but  to  two  of  its  members,  it  was  a 
wretchedly  dreary  and  tedious  afternoon.  Mrs.  Moreau  had  s<  tit 
over  to  Brianvood,  that  morning,  for  Katlu'iine's  lute,  and  a> 


NEMESIS.  343 

twilight  drew  near,  the  unanimous  call  was  for  music  Katherine 
sang  patiently  and  sweetly  whatever  was  requested  of  her.  At 
length,  there  was  a  pause  in  the  demand.  She  sat  in  the  fading 
light  of  a  window,  unconscious  of  the  picturesque  figure  tsiie 
presented  to  the  view  of  the  rest ;  a  picture,  in  which  her  whit* 
fleck,  arms,  and  face  made  the  brighter — her  dress,  and  the  curls, 
drooping  from  the  head,  bowed  over  the  instrument,  the  darker 
portions. 

Malcolm  watched  her,  from  his  corner,  with  a  pained,  yearning, 
and  how  anxious  a  heart  !  What  was  the  chill  cloud  between 
them  ?  Did  she  then  doubt  the  reality,  the  entireness  of  his 
love  ?  What  lurking  meaning  was  there  in  her  sarcastic  repartee 
at  table,  unless  she  questioned  the  sincerity,  the  depth  of  an 
affection  which  he  had  perhaps  been  too  backward  in  declaring 
was  all  hers  ?  But  should  the  want  oe  in  her  own  heart !  Had 
he  staked  his  last  hope  of  earthly  joy  upon  her,  but  to  lose 
everything?  And  in  the  horror  that  overwhelmed  him  at  the 
supposition,  he  had  some  .foretaste  of  what  this  second  death  of 
love  would  be. 

A  trembling  chord  from  the  lute  arose  above  the  sound  of  the 
sweeping  rain  ;  a  mournful  prelude  touched  the  lightest  heart 
there— 

"  When  the  she«p  are  in  the  fuuld,  and  the  kye  a'  at  name, 
When  »'  the  weary  world  to  sleep  are  gane." 

These  simple  words,  sighed  forth  in  the  weariness  of  a  bur- 
dened spirit,  thrilled  the  auditors  to  an  intensity  of  interest  the 
wngstress  did  not  suspect.  In  her  pure,  musical  accent,  she  went 
in  with  the  story,  that  has  lived,  for  near  a  century,  in  the  heads 
md  upon  the  tongues  of  the  young  and  loving.  The  subdued 
pathos  of  tlb?  earlier  stanzas  swelled  into  passionate  sorrow,  at 
jhe  sang  the  closing  verse  : 


844  NEMESIS. 

"  Oh !  sair  did  we  greet  and  muckle  die1  we  say, 
We  took  but  ae  kiss,  and  we  tore  ourselves  away; 
I  wish  I  were  dead !  but  I'm  no'  like  to  dee ; 
And  why  do  I  live  to  say,  '  wae  is  me!' 
I  gang  like  a  ghaist,  and  carena'  to  spin  ; 
I  darena'  think  of  Jamie,  for  that  wad  be  a  siu ; 
But  I'll  do  my  best  a  gude  wife  to  be, 
For  Auld  Robin  Gray  is  a  kind  mon  to  me  !" 

The  rain  wept  and  the  wind  moaned  at  the  windows,  and  tbe 
forms  scattered  through  the  dun  room  were  motionless  as  thai 
now  faintly  visible  beneath  the  darkening  casement. 

Thus  for  one  minute,  then  a  servant  came  in  with  candles.  The 
lute  fell  to  the  floor  with  a  discordant  ring  of  the  tense  strings, 
and  while  Mr.  Bancroft  darted  forward  to  pick  it  up,  Katherine 
brushed  past  him  and  left  the  room.  Only  Malcolm  espied  the 
glistening  tear  upon  her  cheek,  and  in  a  chaotic  maze  of  wonder, 
pity  and  love,  he  hardly  knew  what  he  did  or  said  until  summoned 
to  the  illuminated  supper-table,  where  Katherine,  radiant  and 
fascinating,  was  again  his  vis-a-vis,  and  Mr.  Bancroft  her  moet 
devoted. 

The  children  were  allowed  to  sit  up  an  hour  beyond  their  regu- 
lar bed-time,  at  the  earnest  request  of  Jenny  Armistead  and 
Martha  Selden,  who  proposed  a  romping  game  by  way  of  "  fun  " 
on  the  "miserable  blue  evening."  Mr.  Moreau  headed  the  frolic, 
which  shortly  became  too  loudly  furious  for  Malcolm's  taste 
Katherine  had  seized  a  favorable  moment  to  escape  from  the  room, 
and  he  awaited  her  return  with  the  fast-forming  purpose  of  forcing 
npon  her  a  decisive  interview.  He  leaned  against  the  mantel 
in  gloomy  meditation,  and  young  Armistead,  from  the  other  sidu 
of  the  room,  made  various  efforts  to  catch  his  attention,  without 
being  observed  by  the  noisy  party  who  were  "  rounding  the  g 
berry  bush  "  in  the  centre  of  tho  apartment. 


N  E  M  £  8  I  6.  340 

Montrouge  was  affluent  in  porches.  Besides  the  square  frcmt 
one — a  good  bized  room  of  itself — there  were  an  eastern  and  a 
western  at  each  end  of  the  mansion,  and  along  piazza  in  the  rear, 
extending  the  entire  length  of  the  house  except  where  a  jutting 
A  ing  shut  it  up  at  one  extremity.  Mr.  ArmLstead  chauced  tc 
station  himself  by  a  window  that  commanded  this  portico,  au<? 
gazing  idly  forth  at  the  shimmer  from  the  lighted  parlor  upon  the 
wet  leaves  of  the  vines  trained  up  to  the  poof,  thought  that  he 
saw  a  figure  pass  and  rcpass  between  them  and  himself.  Looking 
back  into  the  room,  he  perceived  Katherine's  absence,  and  doubted 
not  that  she  was  the  lonely  promenader.  The  generous  fellow 
had  a  brief,  but  rather  sharp  struggle  with  inclination  before  he 
brought  himself  to  apprise  another,  whose  right  he  supposed  to 
exceed  his  own,  of  the  discovery  he  had  made.  He  was  slightly 
smitten  with  Katherine,  just  enough  to  make  it  an  act  of  pelf 
denial  to  afford  Malcolm  the  opportunity  he  fancied  he  desired — a 
private  conversation  with  her.  Seeing  that  his  signals  were 
unheeded  he  crossed  over  to  him,  and  said  aside  :  "  Come  wMi  me 
into  the  hall,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

"  Where  now  ?"  called  Mr.  Moreau. 

•'  To  take  a  comfortable  smoke — be  back  presently  !"  replied 
Armistead.  "  Mr.  Argrle,"  he  continued,  as  the  hubbub  within 
the  parlor  recommenced,  "  if  I  am  taking  an  offensive  liberty  yon 
can  knock  me  down  or  forgive  me,  whichever  you  choose.  I  am 
actuated  by  none  but  kind  motives  in  imparting  to  you  a  bit  of 
information  you  may  or  may  not  care  to  use.  There  is  a  lad} 
walking  alone  in  that  porch  ;  whether  expectant  or  nonexpec- 
taut,  willing  or  unwilling,  you  perhaps  know — I  don't  !  I  am 
going  to  smoke  in  the  west  porch,  and  should  like,  for  the  sake  of 
appearances  and  Mrs.  Grundy,  to  return  to  the**parlor  with  you 
when  you  are  quite  ready.  Don't  hurry  on  my  account.  It  id 
immaterial  to  me  whether  I  take  one,  two,  or  three  pipes." 
•  Time  was,  and  not  a  month  ago,  when  Malcolm  would  have 
/  15* 


84:6  NEMESIS. 

regarded  this  address  as  a  master-piece  of  flippancy  and  iraperti 
nence.  To-night — paradoxical  as  it  may  seem — he  was  desperate 
enough  to  be  reasonable.  He  squeezed  the  kind-hearted  young 
man's  hand  until  the  knuckles  slipped  from  their  sockets. 

"I  shall  never  forget  your  goodness  1"  he  said.  "  You  have 
made  me  your  debtor  for  life  1" 

Katherine,  wrapt  in  a  large  dark  shawl,  as  much  to  elude 
observation  as  to  protect  her  shoulders  and  chest  from  the  damp- 
ness, paced  swiftly  from  end  t  enu  of  the  portico,  heart  and 
head  throbbing  with  the  violence  and  number  of  her  emotions. 

And  she  had  come  to  this  1  she,  who  in  her  airy  castles  had 
garnered  a  love  which  was  to  make  amends  for  her  past  penury 
of  affection  ;  who,  of  late,  had  seen  this  cherished  chimera  grow 
into  solidity  and  beauty  ;  changed  from  a  dream  of  the  misty, 
far-off  To-come,  into  the  most  glorious  blessings  of  her  Now  1 
She  gnawed  her  lip,  as  she  bethought  herself  of  her  unveiled 
oeart ;  the  crystal  well  into  which  she  had  suffered  him  to  look 
whenever  it  pleased  him,  and  where  he  could  not  but  have  seei: 
his  own  image,  idealized  into  the  perfection  of  manhood  by  her 
loving  imagination  I 

"Deceived  !  deceived  !"  she  said,  with  the  anguished  moaa 
the  words  must  ever  wring  from  a  soul  that  has  trusted  as  fondly 
as  blindly,  and  she  murmured  aloud  : 

"  I  wish  I  were  dead,  but  I'm  no'  like  to  dee, 
And  why  do  I  live  to  say,  '  wae  is  me!'  "^ 

"  Katherine  1" 

The  girl  turned  with  a  start  and  stood  UJWE  the  defensive. 

Malcolm  noted  her  attitude,  dark  'though  it  was  ;  heard  the 
bard-drawn  breath,  and  could  picture  to  himself  the  resolute 
hauteur  with  which  she  prepared  to  hear  him. 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  walk  a  little  while  with  yon  V"  hi 
a;dkcd.  "  An  you  properly  shielded  from  the  air  ?" 


NEMESIS.  351 

Barbara,  and  she  began  to  clear  away  the  plates  and  cups  from  x 
round  table  set  before  a  bright,  tiny  fire,  which  had  heeu  kindled 
to  "  keep  his  supper  warm." 

"  Ain't  not  marster  preteudiu'  to  return  to-night  ?"  inquired  the 
body-servant.  "  He  have  not  left  any  message  of  that  specie 
with  me." 

"  Who  but  a  drunkard  or  a  crazy  man  would  ride  in  this  rain, 
if  he  could  light  upon  a  tobacco-barn,  with  half  a  roof  on,  you 
simpleton  ?"  demanded  the  housekeeper,  tartly. 

"  Sorry  to  hear  sech  a  melancholy  import  of  my  poor  marster," 
Baid  the  pert  fellow,  assuming  a  rueful  visage.  .  "  He  must  be 
uiad  or  'toxicated  one — for  that  am  Sprightly1?  hoof  splashing 
down  the  road,  if  ever  I  heerd  a  horse  gallop." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !" 

Miss  Barbara  rushed  to  the  door,  theL  back  again  to  the 
table  ;  replaced  the  tea-things,  and  seizing  a  turkey-wing,  fanned 
the  fire  to  a  lively  blaze  by  the  tune  Malcolm  entered — drenched 
to  the  skin  and  pale  as  death. 

"  Don't  set  down  !  do  you  want  to  ketch  your  death  ?"  cried 
Barbara,  as  he   threw  himself  upon  the  settee.     "  Walk 
up  and  down  the  room,  as  fast  as  ever  you  can,  while  I  run  for 
dry  cloth 

These  brought,  she  jerked  out  a  bunch  of  keys  from  her  hand 
basket,  and  trotted  off  to  the  dining-room.  While  she  stood  at 
the  side-board,  mixing  a  glass  of  hot  toddy,  Tony  appeared,  with 
a  request  for  a  little  brandy  or  whbky,  to  bathe  Sprightly's  legs. 

"  Are  you  stark  staring  mad  ?"  Miss  Barbara  was  aghast  at 
his  impertinence. 

"  Not  that  I  knows  on,  Miss  Barbara  ;  but  you  was  right 
when  you  said  that  marster  was.  Twould  make  the  heart  of  a 
grindstone  shod  tears,  to  see  that  'ere  critter  a-tremblin'  like 
ahe'd  drop,  and  a-perspiriu'  with  mud  and  larther.  And  he  sot  so 
much  store  by  her  !  It's  my  compression  he  seen  a  sperrit  'tolhej 


352  N  K  M  E  8  1  8  . 

side  of  the  bridge  Thar's  been  many  a  parson  sot  upen  by  the 
haunts  in  them — those  low-grounds." 

"  Go  to  Guinea,  with  your  '  haunts '  and  your  fine  gram1 
mar  !"  snapped  Miss  Barbara,  pouring  out  a  tumbler  of  whisky 
"  Thar !  see  that  it  goes  upon  Sprightly's  legs  and  not  mio  your 
throat  1" 

But  what  she  had  heard  excited  her  alarm,  and  prepared  Iier 
for  the  gloomy  countenance  she  beheld,  when  she  returned  to  the 
room  where  she  had  left  Malcolm.  With  a  failing  heart  and  a 
cheerful  look,  the  faithful  foster-mother  proffered  her  preventive 
cordial. 

"  It's  the  best  thing  in  nater  for  you  1"  she  said,  as  he  motioned 
it  *.way. 

"  Better  drink  it,  my  dear  boy  1" 

He  took  the  glass  and  sipped  it. 

"  And  now,  I'll  have  your  hot  coffee  ready  in  a  trice  !"  sl»e 
pursued,  stirring  open  the  bed  of  coals. 

"  I  have  been  to  supper." 

"  Where  at  ?" 

"  Montrouge." 

Miss  Barbara's  limbs  gave  way,  and  she  dropped  into  a  chair, 
Malcolm  saw  the  consternation  depicted  in  every  line  and  wrinkle, 
and  knew  the  direction  of  her  fears.  He  was  not  altogether 
friendless.  So  lonely  of  spirit — so  bowed  down  was  he  then, 
Aat  he  would  not  have  spurned  a  dog  that  crept  to  his  knee 
with  eyes  of  pity  and  of  love.  He  knelt  down  before  her — the 
homely  and  uncultivated  woman  whom  others  deemed  a  household 
drudge — and  hid  his  face  in  her  lap. 

"  It  is  all  over,  Aunt  Bab  !" 

She  held  his  head  close  to  her  bosom,  and  her  tears  rained 
upon  his  hair. 

"  My  boy  !  my  poor  boy  I  what  can  I  say  to  comfort  you  ?  She 
souldn't  have  been  worthy  of  you,  dear,  or  she'd  never  have  led 


N  E  M  K  8  I  S  .  JV'J 

foa  on  so  far,  an  1  then  broken  your  heart.  The  time  wif  conn 
— if  the  Lord  ever  punishes  such  cruel  doh.'s  in  this  w<  rid — 
when  she'll  weep  and  pray  for  the  love  she  won't  have  now." 

"  And  /pray  that  she  may  never  know  a  thousandth  part  of 
the  misery  she  has  cost  me  !"  said  Malcolm,  rising.  "  She  must 
not  be  blamed.  Aunt  Bab.  She  is  innocent  of  intentional  wrong- 
Her  feeling  for  me  was  that  of  a  child  for  an  elderly  friend.  She 
would  have  saved  me  the  pains  of  a  dismissal,  but  like  a  blind 
fool  I  did  not  see  what  she  was  trying  to  do.  I  can  tell  you 
nothing  more.  I  am  not  worth  these  tears — so  dry  them,  if  yon 
love  me  1  I  have  never  caused  any  one  else  half  the  un happiness 
I  have  you,  who  have  done  everything  for  me." 

He  kissed  her  cheek,  and  went  off  to  his  desolate  chamber. 

The  old  unrse  wept  alone  upon  the  hearthstone,  far  into  th« 
rainy  night  that  had  brought  this  great  sorrow  upon  her  darling  ; 
mourned,  in  the  singleness  of  her  devotion,  that  he  was  oMy  hers 
— that  he,  the  joy  of  her  life,  the  light  of  her  aged  eyes,  I  id  not 
forgotten  her  in  the  raptures  of  a  successful  love  that  wouH  have 
assigned  tc  her  for  evermore  a  subordinate  place  hi  his  heu  \  and 
home. 


354  NEMESIS 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ME.  MOREAU  rode  over  to  Briarwood  next  day,  to  in  :juir€ 
ifter  the  welfare  of  his  uncle,  and  to  report  Katherine's  con- 
tinued health  and  happiness.  The  Colonel  was  out  on  the  plan- 
tation, and  his  nephew  joined  him  there,  relieved  that  he  was  not 
to  sit  during  his  call,  beneath  the  still  grave  eyes  of  his  aunt-in- 
law,  of  whom  he  stood  in  far  greater  awe  than  of  her  more  pre- 
tentiously dignified  lord. 

The  two  gentlemen  had  a  friendly  ride  and  chat  together  , 
the  elder,  aphoristic  and  patronizing  ;  the  younger,  humbly  teach- 
able. Every  British  innovation  upon  "  crude  American  agri- 
culture," projected  by  the  Colonel,  was  the  acme  of  practical 
wisdom,  and  his  "  remarkable  "  dissertations  upon  soils,  seeds  and 
climates  proved  him  to  be  a  mammoth  Encyclopaedia — a  prodigy 
of  erudition.  Mr.  Moreau  had  never  been  so  nearly  co-heir  with 
his  cousin  as  when,  their  round  completed,  they  stopped  inside  the 
great  gate  of  the  domain  to  exchange  parting  remarks. 

"  And  while  I  think  of  it,"  said  Morean,  drawing  nearer  the 
old  gentleman's  ear,  "  you  have  transferred  your  accounts  to 
Hammond,  I  hear." 

"I  have." 

"  And  a  very  prudent  measure  it  was  !"  said  the  nephew. 
"  Not  that  1  question  Sancroft's  integrity.  The  poor  fellow  haa 
Ids  enemies — as  one  must  have  who  is  a  strict  collector — the 
agent  selected  to  do  the  disagreeable  jobs  which  those  who  em- 
ploy him  shirk  themselves  ;  but  I  have  no  ground  for  branding 
him  as  slippery.  Nevertheless,  these  are  times  that  try  men's 


NEMESIS. 

s,  and  each  one  of  us  must  save  himself  if  he  can  ;  reversing 
the  sense  of  the  legal  maxim,  we  must  believe  every  maa  a  rogue 
until  he  is  proved  to  be  honest.  You  could  not  have  picked  oni 
a  sharper  watch-dog  than  Hammond.  He  is  my  lawyer  also. 
And  that  reminds  me  that  I  have  some  business  with  him  to-day 
Will  you  go  over  to  see  him  with  me  ?r 

"  As  I  remarked,  a  while  ago,  I  have  an  appointment  at  eleven 
o'clock  with  the  builder,  who  is  to  put  up  the  new  wing,"  replied 
the  Colonel,  "  or  I  would  accompany  you  with  pleasure." 

"  Ah  1  I  had  forgotten  !  I  am  very  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  take 
the  ride  alone,  when,  but  for  that  unfortunate  engagement,  I 
might  have  had  so  delightful  a  companion.  Have  you  any 
message  for  Hammond  ?" 

"  None — or,  you  may  ask  how  he  is  progressing  with  my 
business,  and  whether  he  has  detected  any  errors  in  the  bills. 
Between  ourselves,  Robert,  I  have  not  the  implicit  confidence  in 
Sancroft  which  you  express." 

"  I  may  be  excused  for  trusting  an  old  acquaintance,"  said  Mr. 
Moreau,  heroically.  "  I  should  have  been  culpable  indeed  to 
have  confided  your  interests,  so  much  more  precious  than  my 
own,  to  him,  had  my  belief  in  his  honesty  ever  wavered  " 

"  Certainly,  my  boy  I"  The  rare  and  kind  phrase  made  Moreau's 
heart  leap  with  joy.  "  You  did  everything  for  the  best.  Never 
loubt  that  I  keep  this  in  mind.  But,  as  you  have  said,  these  are 
.imes  that  imperatively  demand  precautionary  measures.  I  hope 
that  you  are  right — altogether  right,  with  regard  to  your  agent. 
I  am  growing  old,  and  it  may  be,  timorous." 

"  Do  not  shame  me  by  apologies,  my  dear  sir  !  I  repeat, 
your  action  was  judicious — eminently  judicious  !  I  am,  then,  to 
gee  how  Hammond  is  working  and  hurry  him  a  little  if  he  if 
iragging  things  along  at  the  snail  pace  he  chooses  sometimes  ?" 

"  By  all  means,  expedite  the  affair,  if  you  can.  Nothing  di» 
pleases  me  more  than  dil.itoriuess  in  business.'' 


356  NEMESIS. 

"  Hammond  is  apt  to  be  surly,  if  interfered  with.  I  do  not 
tare  to  appear  to  pick  a  quarrel.  Do  you  object  to  giving  me  a 
line  that  shall  certify  to  my  authority  to  make  what  investigations 
I  may  think  best  ?" 

"  The  word  of  a  gentleman  should  be  enough  I"  returned  th« 
Colonel,  loftily. 

Moreau  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Hammond  boasts  of  know- 
ing no  castes  or  rank  in  his  profession.  But  I  can  assert  my 
rights  to  any  one — attorney  or  gentleman.  Good  morning,  sir. 
My  respects  to  the  ladies  !" 

"  Stay  I"  The  Colonel  pencilled  something  upon  a  leaf  of  his 
pocket-book,  and  tearing  it  out,  folded  it  into  the  form  of  a  note. 
"  It  is  unnecessary  to  have  any  words  about  a  trifle.  Give  this 
to  Mr.  Hammond  from  me.  Say  to  Katherine  tbat  we  are  well, 
and  glad  that  she  is  enjoying  herself.  I  shah1  meet  her  at  church 
on  the  Sabbath." 

The  thought  of  her  absence,  although  he  missed  her  more  than 
he  would  have  done  the  sunshine,  was  not  the  drawback  to  hia 
complacency,  as  he  mounted  the  hill  upon  which  his  house  was 
situated.  As  his  head  recovered  from  the  intoxicating  fumes  of 
the  flattery  his  nephew  had  administered,  he  awoke  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  imprudent  action,  or,  at  best,  one  whose  expe- 
diency his  clear-sighted  wife  would  question.  Slow  to  receive 
impressions,  he  was  exceedingly  tenacious  of  an  idea  when  it  was 
adopted,  and  his  distrust  of  Sancroft  was  ineradicable.  He 
believed  that  to  this  prejudice  was  to  be  ascribed  the  doubt  he 
felt  as  to  the  propriety  of  countenancing  Moreau's  surveillance 
of  the  business,  so  lately  taken  from  the  agent  of  his  choice.  In 
reality,  the  discomfort  was  the  stirring  life  within  a  seed  dropped 
by  his  home-counsellor — casually,  it  seemed — a  little  while  before, 
a  slight  slur  upon  the  stability,  the  moral  courage  and  business 
talent  of  the  plausible  nephew. 

"But,"  said  the  Colonel  to  himself,  "what   harm  can  arisa 


K  EM  E8I8.  357 

from  this  trifling  indiscretion — if  I  am  to  consider  it  as  each  ? 
Robert  is  strongly  attached  to  uie,  and  his  intentions  are  good, 
however  faulty  his  judgment  may  be." 

And  thus  comforting  himself,  he  determined  to  refrain  from 
any  mention  of  the  verbal  and  written  authority  he  had  granted 
to  one  who  did  not  enjoy  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  full  confidence. 

"  Oh  !"  remonstrates  a  wedded  Phillis.  "  Is  this  the  man  you 
have  heretofore  held  up  to  us,  as  a  model  of  conjugal  devotion  ? 
who  loved  and  trusted  his  wife,  and  relied  upon  her  advice  more 
than  upon  that  of  any  other  person  ?  Here  is  one  of  the 
'  improbabilities '  spoken  of  in  your  '  Introduction  1'  I  should 
die  of  grief  if  I  believed  that  my  Corydon  could  so  insult  me  by 
a  partial  confidence.  I  thank  my  stars  that  his  every  thought  ia 
mine  ;  that  he  throws  open  his  heart  to  me,  to  enter  as  I  will. 
There  are  no  Bluebeard  chambers  there." 

Dear  and  respected  Mrs.  Phillis  !  if  all  the  now  happy  wives 
who  are  insulted  hi  this  manner,  were  to  resolve  with  you,  and 
carry  out  your  fine  resolution,  not  to  survive  their  disgrace,  what 
rapid  fortunes  would  be  realized  by  those  benefactors  to  the  sex 
masculine,  who  provide  ready-made  mourning-suits  at  the  shortest 
possible  notice  1  What  belles  would  Auastasia,  and  Sappho,  and 
Chloe  immediately  become  !  the  lorn  and  single  fair  who  have 
cast  such  longing,  hopeless  glances  upon  your  connubial  estate  1 
In  your  orisons  to  the  stars  that  have  succeeded  so  well  in  the 
merciful  task  of  blinding  your  eyes,  forget  not  to  mingle  thanks- 
givings for  the  want  of  knowledge,  which  is  bliss,  with  your 
grateful  acknowledgments  for  blessings  received  and  seen.  If  all 
the  contented  Fatimas  in  our  land  were  to  stumble  upon  their 
respective  Bluebeards'  chambers  some  bright  morning,  the 
"  Sister  Annes"  upon  the  house-tops  would  rival  hi  number  the 
chimney-stacks. 

We  have  seen,  for  example,  the  uxorious  uncle  and  the  hei 
'peeked  nephew  pursuing  their  divergent  ways,  each  pondering  ijnw 


858  NEMESIS. 

his  scheme  for  hoDdwiuking  his  "second  self,'-  the  "  partner  of 
his  inmost  thoughts,"  the  Lady  High  Keeper  o.'  his  soul's 
archives,  and  neither  beset  by  misgivings  about  the  invisibility 
and  durability  of  the  trap-doors  that  masked  their  secret  closets. 
Yet,  when  the  day  of  destiny  arrives,  and  the  rust-eaten  bolt,  or 
the  brittle  ^bar  gives  way  under  Phillis'  fairy  foot-fall,  to  her 
horror  and  Corydon's  confusion,  nobody  pities  either,  for  ho 
ought  to  have  foreseen  it,  and  so  ought  she. 

Mr.  Hammond  happened  to  be  engaged  in  examining  Colonel 
Rashleigh's  books,  and  making  memoranda  of  letters  to  be 
penned  concerning  the  same,  when  Mr.  Moreau  was  shown  into 
his  office.  The  lawyer  deciphered  the  Colonel's  pencilled  note, 
and  knit  his  brows  musingly.  The  language  was  polite,  and  con- 
conveyed  a  simple  request  that  Mr.  Hammond  would  acquaint 
Mr.  Moreau  with  the  progress  he  had  made  in  the  settlement  of 
Colonel  Rashleigh's  accounts — but  the  cui  bono?  directly  pre« 
sented  itself  to  the  legal  man.  After  a  vain  attempt  to  ferret 
out  something  mysterious  or  mischievous  in  this  selection  of  a 
coadjutor  in  his  work,  he  concluded  that  the  Colonel  was  odd, 
and  moreover  affectionately  ignorant  of  his  nephew's  mental 
deficiencies,  and,  lastly,  that  it  was  not  of  the  slightest  conse- 
quence to  him  who  looked  over  the  papers  with  him.  At  thia 
point,  Mr.  Moreau  spoke  up,  in  an  off-hand  way. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  Hammond,  the  whole  thing  is  a  bore  to 
me  ;  but  the  old  gentleman  couldn't  come  over  himself,  and  gave 
me  the'  appointment  unasked.  So,  I  will  just  hear  what  you 
have  to  say,  and  tumble  ovei  the  papers  awhile,  and  make  a  note 
here  and  there,  lest  I  should  forget  all  I  have  learned  before  I 
pet  back  to  Briarwood.  He  is  amazingly  particular,  the  Colonei 
is  !  and  a  fellow,  all  odds  and  ends,  like  myself,  has  to  be  per- 
pctually  on  his  guard,  through  fear  of  damaging  his  prospects— 
you  understand  ?" 

Mr.  Hammond  thought  that  he  must  indeed  be  in  a  stupid 


N  K  M  K  S  I  8  .  359 

mood,  when  he  could  not  unriddle  this  shallow-pate,  and  the  two 
seated  themselves  with  the  books  and  pile  of  bills  between  them. 
Mr.  Hammond  bestowed  an  item  or  two  of  information,  to  the 
effect,  that  he  was  getting  along  as  well  as  he  had  expected,  and 
that,  thus  far,  all  was  correct,  and  then  fell  to  work.  Mr. 
Moreau's  style  of  proceeding  verified  his  predescription.  Ho 
rustled  papers  ;  glanced  down  and  up  columns  of  figures  with  a 
celerity  incompatible  with  calculation,  or  even  attentive  reading, 
and  made  irregular,  and  seemingly  cursory  references  to  his  note- 
book. 

"  By  George  I  it  is  a  precious  farce,  and  I  am  sick  of  it !"  he 
yawned,  at  length,  stretching  himself  in  his  chair.  "  I  reckon 
that  I  have  done  my  duty  by  my  revered  uncle,  and  profited  long 
enough  by  your  instructions,  Hammond.  I  had  rather  talk 
about  cattk  and  crops  all  day,  than  about  law  for  half  an  hour." 

"  I  take  some  interest  in  those  subjects  myself,"  returned  the 
lawyer.  "  If  you  desire  proof,  just  cast  your  eye  through  that 
window  upon  that  field  of  corn." 

"  That  is  your  brag  rare-ripe — isn't  it  ?  I  have  heard  wonder 
fal  things  cf  it.  But  what  are  those  ?  Your  neighbor's  cows  or 
*our  own  are  making  free  with  it  in  advance  of  the  season." 

Mr.  Hammond  gave  a  look  and  ran  to  the  door.  A  shout 
orought  up  all  the  little  negroes  on  the  place,  and  many  of  the 
%  omen,  the  men  being  mostly  absent  at  their  farm-work.  Directed 
by  their  master,  a  crew  of  Eboe  juveniles  and  five  or  six  dogs 
ccampered  off  to  execute  justice  upon  the  depredating  herd,  who 
were  trampling  and  feasting  upon  the  choice  grain.  After  a  deal 
of  superfluous  noise  and  labor,  the  field  was  cleared  of  invaders  ; 
tlie  broken  panel  of  fence,  which  had  afforded  ingress,  mended, 
and  Mr.  Hammond  calmed  down  gradually. 
,  "  I  do  not  think  they  have  done  much  damage,"  remarked  Mr. 
Moreau,  who  had  followed  the  owrner  of  the  crop  to  the  seat  of 
war.  "It  is  lucky  you  discovered  it  when  you  did." 


360  NEMESIS. 

"  It  will  be  very  unlucky  for  the  rascal  who  pulled  that  feuct 
flown,  if  ever  I  catch  him  at  his  tricks  1"  said  the  other.  "  It  is 
not  the  only  time  I  have  been  served  in  this  way,  and  I  have 
my  eye  upon  the  villain!*'1 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  asked  Mr.  Moreau,  switching  down  a  mullen- 
jjtalk  with  his  horsewhip. 

"  That  free  negro  up  the  road,  whose  brother  I  helped  to  the 
Penitentiary  last  spring.  He  will  keep  him  company  there  before 
long,  if  he  is  not  very  careful." 

"  And  serve  him  right  1"  answered  Mr.  Moreau. 

He  stopped  to  unfasten  his  horse  from  the  rack  by  the  gate. 

"  Stay  to  dinner — won't  you  ?"•  invited  the  host. 

"  Thank  you  !  I  would  be  glad  to  do  so,  only  I  left  a  house- 
ful of  company  at  home.  Come  over  some  time  this  week,  and 
see  us.  There  are  several  pretty  girls  with  us,  if  you  have  not 
lost  your  taste  for  beauty." 

"  Not  I  !  so  my  wife  compliments  me  by  saying,"  laughed  Mr. 
Hammond.  "  He  has  a  kind  heart,  but  a  very  poor  head-piece," 
he  observed,  as  his  neighbor  cantered  away.  "  However,  he  did 
not  make  himself." 

His  charitable  reflections  were  suspended  by  the  sight  that  met 
him  in  his  office.  Both  doors  had  been  left  open,  and  the  draught 
thus  created,  was  strong  enough  to  blow  most  of  the  papers  off 
the  table,  and,  for  aught  he  knew,  some  of  them  into  the  yard. 
He  was  not  addicted  to  profanity,  but  it  was  as  well  for  his  repu- 
tation as  a  man  of  decorous  speech,  that  there  were  no  eaveiv- 
droppers  to  report  the  ejaculations  and  grumblings  with  which  he 
pursued  the  scattered  documents. 

The  day  was  sunny,  but  not  fiercely  hot,  like  its  predecessor, 
aud  when  her  companions  betook  themselves  to  their  novels  and 
couches,  at  mid-day,  Katherine  donned  her  sun-bonnet  and  stole 
out  of  the  house,  through  the  garden,  and  across  a  strip  of  meadow 
into  the  furest.  There,  freed  from  the  scrutiny  of  curious  eyes 


N  K  M  E  S  1  B  .  363 

she  sat  down  upon  a  fragment  of  rock  at  the  toot  of  a  pine,  and 
wept  in  utter  wretchedness  of  spirit. 

She  felt  like  a  lonely  child,  in  the  dark,  reaching  vainly  on  all 
sides  for  something  that  might  comfort  or  tell  her  where  she  was. 
However  rudely  the  tempests  of  life  may  buffet  the  bark  of  the 
young  voyager  ;  however  blackly  the  skies  of  Fate  may  lower — 
if  but  the  anchor  of  faith  in  the  thing  beloved  hold  firm,  it  rides 
the  storm  with  hopeful  courage  within.  Tear  this  anchor  away, 
and  earth  has  not  a  more  reckless  and  pitiable  waif  than  that 
once  trustful  heart.  With  Katherine,  the  heat  of  anger  was  gone. 
The  reflection  that  she  was  the  intended  victim  Malcolm  would 
have  offered  to  exorcise  the  ghost  of  his  unhappy  love  ;  that  the 
heart,  which,  in  its  freshness  and  plenitude  of  emotion,  was 
worthy  to  be  a  king's  ransom,  was  to  buy  for  him  a  negative  hap- 
piness— cheat  him  of  regrets  for  the  past — make  of  a  restless,  a 
"calm"  existence;  that  this  was  his  "scheme,"  in  which  no 
account  was  made  of  her  wasted  life  and  deceived  affection  ;  all 
this,  while  it  made  her  heart  the  sorer,  could  not  rekindle  the 
flame  of  resentment.  She  had  trusted  and  been  mistaken — it  was 
her  willful  mistake.  She  loved  and  was  not  loved  again.  She 
must  bear  the  penalty  of  her  indiscretion  as  she  could,  until  time 
blunted  the  sense  of  suffering,  that  now  appeared  intolerable.  She 
would  go  back  home — to  her  old  father,  who  loved  her  in  his 
way;  to  the  mother,  whose  ceaseless  care  she  was;  to  the  patient, 
indulgent  governess,  who  never  thought  or  spoke  unkindly  of  her 
— and  try  to  do  her  duty  faithfully  to  them  ;  to  be  content  with 
the  peaceful  monotony  of  the  life  they  led,  since  she  was  to  have 
no  other. 

"  But,"  she  sobbed,  in  girlish  abandonment,  "  I  did  to  long  to 
be  loved  once  !  to  know  the  bliss  of  it,  if  but  for  one  moment  1  I 
thiuk  I  could  have  died  happily  then  1" 

An  opening  in  the  underbrush,  growing  thickly  about  her, 
'showed  her  that  she  was  near  the  edge  of  the  woodland,  and  half 


862  N  K  M  E  8  1  b  . 

11  mile  beyond,  arose  the  dark  walls  and  peaked  gables  of  Ben 
Lomond.  Between  it  and  her,  was  the  cedar  grove,  shadowing 
the  burial-ground.  In  the  abject  prostration  of  her  disappoint- 
ment, she  thought  of  a  resting-place  there,  as  the  dearest  home 
the  world  had  now  to  give  to  its  bereaved  child.  Through  thia 
break  in  the  bushes  was  likewise  visible  the  high  road,  and  her 
proximity  to  it  was  made  known  to  her  by  the  sound  of  a  horse's 
feet.  Her  instant  idea  was  of  the  last  person  by  whom  she  would 
wish  to  be  discovered,  and  she  crouched  to  the  very  ground,  lest 
the  rider,  from  his  elevated  position,  should  look  over  the  tops  of 
tne  brushwood  into  her  retreat.  Still,  between  the  leaves,  she 
could  catch  glimpses  of  the  passers-by,  for  the  horseman  was  not 
solitary,  as  she  soon  learned  from  hearing  voices  in  conversation,. 
She  recognized  Mr.  Sancroft's  laugh  before  he  came  in  sight, 
His  companion  was  Mr.  Moreau,  his  face  as  set  and  gloomy. 
as  Bancroft's  was  full  of  triumph,  that  had  in  it  a  spice  of  the 
eatanic.  They  were  walking  their  horses,  and  some  phrases  of 
their  talk  came  to  her  ear,  with  startling  distinctness,  so  stil. 
and  clear  was  the  air. 

"  I  have  lied  and  stolen  for  you  1  You  will  have  me  commit 
murder  next  1"  said  Mr.  Moreau.  "  I  feel  as  mean  as  a  sheep- 
stealing  dog." 

"  Tut,  man!  You  ought  to  be  vain  of  your  clever  job  1  1 
did  it  out  of  natural  affection  you  know.  Couldn't  let  the  old 
fox  fall  into  the  trap  he  had  set  for  himself  in  those  documents. 
How  Hammond  stormed  at  the  cows  and  the  negroes  !" 

Another  laugh  that  sounded  fiendish  in  its  glee,  to  the  sorrow- 
ing girl,  and  they  were  out  of  hearing. 

She  recollected  it,  when  an  hour  afterward  her  smirking 
admirer  brought  into  play  all  his  arts  of  pleasing,  and  compli- 
mented her  upon  her  uniform  flow  of  spirits — "  a  perennial 
fount,"  he  was  pleased  to  say,  "  that  never  requirecf  a  forcing* 
pump." 


NEMESIS.  363  ' 

Mr.  Moreau  did  not  appear  in  the  drawinif-"oom  after  dinner 
Katherine  asked  where  he  was,  and  his  wife  replied  that  he  was 
lying  down.  "  He  had  a  headache,  brought  on  by  riding  too  far 
in  the  sun." 

As  the  girls  were  undressing  that  night,  Katherine  noticed  a 

peculiar  meaning  in  the  faces  of  the  others,  when  the  host's  name 

mentioned,    but  did    not    inquire    its   significance.      An 

incautiously  loud  whisper  from  the  opposite  bed,  after  they  had 

retired,  enlightened  her  as  to  the  mystery. 

"  I  met  him,  as  they  were  carrying  him  to  his  room,"  said 
Jenny  Armistead.  "  He  was  too  drunk  to  walk  or  stand.  A.nd 
Mrs.  Moreau  was  to  angry  1" 


364  N  E  M  E  8  I  6  . 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

IHE  Sabbath  dawned  like  a  foretaste  of  the  upper  Paradise 
There  had  been  another  thunder  shower  on  Saturday,  and  tht 
yellowing  trees  and  browning  fields  were  refreshed  into  almost 
vernal  greenness.  The  streams  were  edged  with  the  golden-rod, 
and  the  meadows  gay  with  purple  brush  and  white  wild  fennel  and 
radiant  coreopsis.  The  hickory's  signal  banner  of  pale  yellow 
and  the  red  beacons  of  (the  gum-tree  and  maple,  still,  like  faithful 
warders,  proclaimed  the  approaching  invasion  of  the  Frost  King ; 
but  their  alarms  were  displayed  to  inattentive  eyes. 

The  Moreaus  parted,  to-day,  with  most  of  their  visitors.  Only 
Elizabeth  Hunter  was  to  remain  with  them,  and  her  brother 
would  come  on  the  morrow,  to  take  her  away. 

"  We  have  had  a  pleasant,  bat  an  unprofitable  week,"  said 
Jenny  Armistead,  on  their  way  to  church.  "  By  right,  we  should 
have  realized  an  offer  apiece,  and  not  one  of  us  has  had  a  chance 
to  say,  '  No  !' " 

"  Or,  Yes  !"  said  Katherine,  for  she  saw  Mr.  Armistead's  eye 
flash  quickly  toward  her,  and  understood  intuitively,  that  he 
had  gained  some  knowledge  of  the  real  state  of  the  case  with 
one  )f  the  quartettei 

He  rode  by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  and  was  the  only  gentle 
man  within  hearing  of  his  saucy  sister. 

"  Nobody  minds  Alick  !"  she  replied  to  an  admonitory  look  from 
Elizabeth  Hunter,  whose  heart  had  not  escaped  uninjured  from 
the  week's  association  with  the  handsome  and  sprightly  brother 


NEMESIS.  305 

"  You  do  not,  at  all  events!"  he  rejoined.  "  It  is  not  just  that 
I  should  bear  all  the  blame,  and  ray  fellow-delinquents  go 
unwhipped.  Sancroft,  Blanton  1  Do  you  hear  the  complaint  of 
these  defrauded  maidens  ?  A  week's  hunt — and  they  have  not 
bagged  a  single  bird  1  Who  is  ready  to  make  amends  to  tjy-s 
unsuccessful — I  dare  not  say,  the  unskillful  Dianas  ?  Don't  aD 
speak  at  once  1" 

"  I  am,  for  one  !"  replied  Sancroft,  "  provided  the  act  of  public 
justice — the  amende  honorable — be  prefaced  by  one  of  a  more 
personal  and  confidential  character." 

"  I  make  no  reservations,"  said  Blanton.  "  I  am  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  ladies.  They  may  draw  straws  for  me,  if  they  like. 
I  will  be  a  dutiful  bondsman  to  any  one  of  them." 

"  You  are  too  accommodating,"  said  Miss  Arniistead,  bridling. 
"  We  do  not  prize  what  is  so  easily  bought ;  do  not  want  heavta 
that  are  offered  at  auction." 

"They  ought  to  be  disposed  of  as  paupers  are  provided  with 
boarding-places — knocked  down  to  the  lowest  bidders,"  added 
Elizabeth. 

Commonplace  girls  can  be  sharp,  when  woman's  supreme  right 
to  the  sovereignty  of  hearts  is  assailed  or  treated  lightly,  and  Mr 
Blanton,  who  thought  he  had  made  a  gallant  speech,  was  morti- 
fied at  the  double-headed  bolt  cast  at  him  in  reply. 

"Finish  me,  if  you  please,  Miss  Rashleigh — and  Miss  Martha 
may  bury  me,"  he  implored,  with  the  best  grace  he  could  muster. 
"  It  would  be  mercy  to  put  me  out  of  my  misery,  as  we  crush 
lame  grasshoppers." 

"  Or  one-winged  butterflies !"  interposed  Miss  Arniistead, 
smartly. 

"  I  do  not  place  you  in  either  category,  Mr.  Blanton,"  said 
Catherine,  with  a  gentleness  she  seldom  exhibited  in  addressing 
him,  for  she  was  no  more  partial  to  him  than  were  the  two  voting 
ladies,  from  whose  cruelty  lie  appealed.  "  And  it  has  ulwayi 


806  NEMESIS. 

Beemed  tc  me  questionable  mercy  to  extinguish  the  remaining 
spark  of  life,  because  the  unhappy  creature  has  already  lost  a  por- 
tion of  its  vitality.  To  kill  and  to  cure  belongs  to  Nature  and 
uot  to  us,  in  such  cases." 

"  Sound  philosophy,"  commented  Alick  Armistead.  "  So  yon 
§ay  to  the  manned  grasshopper  :  , 

'  Live  to  kick  another  day.'  " 

"I  hope  you  are  thankful  to  Miss  Rashleigh  for  your  reprieve, 
•Mr.  Blanton,"  said  Elizabeth. 

He  was  so  far  grateful  that  he  inwardly  awarded  to  Miss  Rash- 
leigh, the  palm  of  amiability,  as  he  had  previously  regarded  her 
as  the  most  beautiful  of  the  four  girls.  For  the  rest  of  the  way 
he  was  disposed  to  taciturnity  and  serious  thought.  He  was 
debating  the  probable  chances  of  success  which  he,  with  a  small 
real  estate  and  a  fluctuating  income  of  uncertain  amount,  would 
have  in  the  race  with  Argyle,  Sancroft,  and  perhaps  Armistead — 
for  the  heiress. 

The  most  popular  and  courted  girl  in  the  community,  Kathe* 
rine  alighted  at  the  church-door,  and  felt  herself  to  be  the  most 
forlorn  and  stricken  being  there,  as  she  gazed  upon  the  gathering 
crowd,  with  its  holiday  faces.  While  the  Moreau  party  stood 
upon  the  green,  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  second  carriage, 
containing  the  host,  hostess  and  children,  Colonel  Rashleigh's 
nobie  equipage  was  driven  up  from  another  direction.  It  was 
faultless  in  its  every  appurtenance — from  the  burnished  coats  of  the 
borses  and  the  silver  mountings  of  the  harness,  to  the  knee-buckles 
of  the  doughty  Thomas,  who,  sublimely  oblivious  of  quagmires 
and  soiled  liveries,  stood,  in  poker-like  dignity,  upon  the  foot 
board  behind  the  coach.  Such  parade  poor  Mark  may  have  had 
in  his  eye,  when  he  prophesied  that  his  wife  and  daughter  would 
see  the  day  when  they  should  ride  past  their  old  home  in  their 
chariot  and  four,  and  forget  that  they  had  ever  lived  there. 


N   K  M  K  S  I  8  .  361 

Colone.  Rashleigb  got  out  slowly,  his  hand  on  the  footman'.* 
shoulder,  and  turned  to  aid  his  wife's  descent.  A  hum  went 
through  the  assembly  as  she  appeared.  She  had  never  attended 
church  before,  during  her  residence  at  Briarwood.  although  Mrs. 
Holt  and  Katheriue  were  invariably  present  whenever  there  wat 
lervice  at  Deep  Run,  and  the  Colonel  frequently  accompanied 
them.  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  ill-health  was  supposed  to  be  the  cause 
why  she  so  seldom  went  abroad,  and  but  a  small  proportion  of 
the  surrounding  population,  excepting  those  who  were  on  visiting 
terms  at  Briarwood,  had  ever  had  a  closer  view  of  her  than  was 
gained  through  her  carriage  windows,  as  she  took  her  daily  air- 
ings. She  wore  a  veil  now  to  protect  her  weak  eyes,  or  to  ward 
off  prying  gazes  ;  but  when  she  drew  it  aside  to  speak  with  her 
daughter,  the  wan,  yet  beautiful  face  disclosed,  interested  all — 
was  the  subject  of  remark  with  many. 

"  Are  you  not  well  ?"  she  said  to  Katherine,  as  they  went  up 
the  steps  together.  A  ruddy  tint  supplanted  the  lily  in  the 
daughter's  cheek. 

11  Yery  well,  madam,"  she  answered,  but  her  heart  sank  at  the 
penetration,  the  unerring  perception,  that  at  a  glance,  discovered 
the  falsity  of  her  assumed  demeanor. 

Mrs.  Holt  knelt  on  the  uncarpeted  floor,  as  she  had  been  used 
to  bow  upon  her  velvet  hassock,  in  a  curtained  pew.  The  Colone 
stood,  with  his  hat  before  his  face,  a  minute,  while  his  lips  moved 
iu  the  formula  his  mother  had  instructed  him  to  repeat  before 
service.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  and  Katherine  obeyed  the  dictates  of 
DO  such  custom.  The  one  looked  too  haughty,  the  other  too 
honest  to  feign  a  devotion  she  did  not  feel. 

The  time-honored  usage  of  singing  the  congregation  into 
quietude,  and  which  has  been  superseded  by  the  solemn  chant  01 
subduing,  yet  elevating  organ  voluntary,  was  then  in  vogue. 
And,  as  was  often  done — on  this  morning,  the  tune  was  raised  ir 
the  pulpit.  But  ii  was  not  the  pastor's  voice  that  led  the  words  ; 


N  K  M  E  8  I  B 

"  There  i»  a  fountain  filled  with  jlaod, 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins ; 
And  sinners  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains." 

O,  thou  dear  and  hallowed  lyric  !  the  alabaster-box  of  precioni 
Ointment,  broken  by  the  weeping  "  Castaway,"  upon  the  feet  of  the 
Saviour  !  epitome  of  the  sinner's  refuge  and  the  Christian's  hope  ! 
psalm  of  the  redeemed  !  do  not  the  white-robed  throng,  on  the  shin- 
ing shore,  remember  and  sing  thee  still  !  The  wild,  sweet  air  to 
which  the  hymn  was  then  sung  was  the  same  which  is  associated 
with  it  in  the  minds  and  upon  the  tongues  of  many  of  the  descendants 
^f  those  who  then  united  in  the  strain.  We  have  searched  vainly  for 
printed  or  written  notes  of  its  plaintive  measures  ;  have  instituted 
futile  inquiries  as  to  its  origin  and  history.  "JVly  mother  sung  it 
to  me,  as  I  lay  on  her  knee."  "  It  was  my  father's  best-beloved 
tune."  "  My  sister  went  to  glory,  with  it  upon  her  lips."  Records 
like  these,  we  have  gathered — given  in  with  smiles  and  tears,  by 
those  whose  recollection  runs  back  to  the  infancy  of  our  Republic 
— but  they  have  never  known,  and  history  has  not  chronicled  the 
name  of  him  whose  holy  passion  here  poured  itself  into  musical 
utterance — a  stream  of  fervor  and  melody,  with  a  heart-throb  iu 
<}very  tone. 

Katherine  was  strangely  moved  by  the  rush  of  song.  It  bore 
her  upon  its  wings  to  the  summer  sky,  that  seemed  to  bend  and 
listen,  through  the  charmed  air,  to  the  chorus  of  human  praise, 
and  her  soul  was  bathed  in  the  peace,  typified  by  the  tranquil 
ether.  She  closed  her  eyes — and  by  one  of  the  mysteries  of 
memory  or  imagination,  that  sometimes  begets  in  the  least  ideal 
of  mankind,  a  passing  belief  in  the  preexistence  of  soula,-  she 
beheld,  as  in  a  dream,  another  scene,  and  yet  the  same. 
She  was  a  child,  leaning  on  her  mother's  knee — lips  apart  and 
eyes  overrunning  with  emotions  she  could  not  understand, 
awakened  br  the  very  music  that  had  wrought  the  maiden'* 


H  E  M  ]•:  8  I  S  . 

trance — a  child,  a  happy,  earnest,  loving  and  beloved  child  ! 
Would  that  she  had  died  then  1  In  the  sharp  pang  of  the  con- 
trast with  a  suffering  womanhood,  she  awoke,  as  the  hymn  was 
ended,  and  through  the  open  door,  saw,  between  the  tree-trunks, 
the  white  gleam  of  the  railing  that  defended  the  grave  upon  the 
hill! 

The  preacher  arose  to  offer  the  opening  prayer,  and  Katherine 
recognized  Mr.  Laidley  ! 

What  a  life-tune  of  events  and  of  feeling  had  been  compressed 
into  the  brief  months  that  had  elapsed  since  their  former  meeting  ! 
She  remembered,  wonderingly,  that  he  then  interested  her  more 
than  another,  who  was  also  presented  to  her  that  day.  She 
seemed  to  look  and  to  hearken  ;  but  the  reading  and  singing,  and 
the  introductory  divisions  of  the  discourse  were  swept  away  from 
hearing  and  understanding  by  the  flood  of  bitter  emotion.  It 
was  the  always  selfish,often  impious,  mourning  for  the  first-born  love. 

"  '  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  am?  1 
will  give  you  rest  !' " 

The  preacher  leaned  forward  over  the  closed  Bible,  and,  to 
Kathcrme's  startled  senses,  he  addressed  himself  directly  to  her, 

"  From  the  woes  which  our  own  sins  and  the  sins  of  othera 
have  brought  upon  us,  Christ  is  able  to  deliver  us.  If  the  Father 
smites  us  sorely,  it  is  that  we  may  be  healed  by  the  Son  1" 

This  was  all  of  the  sermon  which  Katherine  retained,  and  this 
iras  fixed  in  her  memory  only  by  the  speaker's  eye  and  ma  mer 
She  found  a  vague  solace  in  repeating  the  words  over  and  over 
They  were  like  a  cool  breath  of  wholesome  air  to  her  ton  and 
fevered  heart. 

She  gave  one  hurried  look  through  the  retiring  congregation, 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  services.  Malcolm  was  not  theio,  and 
although  she  would  have  said  that  she  desired  nothing  at  pr  seat 
more  than  his  absence — in  a  perversity  of  contradiction  she 
sustained  an  additional  throb  of  pain  that  she  had  rot  seen  lim 
,  16* 


570  NEMESIS. 

"  Mj  dear,  in  compliance  with  your  wish,  I  have  iuvited  Mi 
Laidley  to  remain  with  us  to-night,"  said  the  Colonel,  on  th« 
road. 

Katherine  looked  at  her  mother  for  confirmation  of  this  singular 
statement.  Why  should  she,  who  habitually  shuunod  company— 
who  rarely  proposed  an  invitation  to  any  one,  have  deviated  from 
her  custom  to  houoi  an  entire  stranger,  whom  she  had  never 
seen,  before  to-day  ? 

"  Thank  you  !"  was  the  response  "  My  wish  to  see  him  is 
increased  by  his  able  sermon." 

"  His  is  more  the  persuasive  style  of  eloquence  than  I  antici- 
pated from  your  description  of  him  last  spring,  Katherme  ?" 
continued  her  father. 

"  I  do  not  recollect  attempting  to  describe  him,  papa.  I  liked 
and  admired  him  then,  as  I  do  now,  and  no  doubt  said  as 
much." 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Holt,  then,  who  gave  me  the  impression  that  he 
was  too  vehement — too  Wesleyan  in  his  oratory." 

"  I  may  have  thought  him  warmer  than  the  strict  rules  of 
clerical  propriety  warranted,"  said  the  governess,  apologetically* 
"  But,  if  such  was  then  my  judgment,  I  retract  the  criticism 
after  the  effort  of  this  forenoon.  His  style  is,  as  you  observe, 
Colonel  Rashleigh,  eminently  tender  and  persuasive,  and  marked 
by  a  noble  candor.  His  introduction  bordered  upon  the  colla 
|uial.  I  was  reminded  of  Pope's  proposal  to  Bolingbroke  : 

'  Together  let  us  beat  this  ample  field, 
Try  what  the  open,  what  the  covert  yield  ; 
The  latent  tracts,  the  giddy  heights  explore, 
Of  all  who  blindly  creep,  or  sightless  soar, 
Chide  where  we  must,  be  candid  where  we  can, 
But  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man.'  " 

'*  Where  does  Mr.  Laidlc.y  dim:  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 


NEMESIS.  371 

"  Tie  and  Mr.  Kenny  were  invited  together  to  Mr.  Selden's 
Hut  for  Mr.  Argyle's  absence,  he  would  have  gone  to  Ben 
Lorrond." 

"  Mr.  Argyle  lias  really  set  off  upon  his  journey,  then  T  said 
Mrs.  Holt. 

Katherine  turned  away  her  head,  and  leaned  out  of  the  window 
for  air.  A  numb  sickness  was  creeping  over  her. 

"  He  left  yesterday,  as  he  proposed  to  do." 

"  He  intends  spending  the  whiter  in  travelling,  I  believe,"  con- 
tinued the  governess  ;  neither  of  the  other  ladies  appearing  dis- 
posed to  engage  in  the  conversation. 

"  Is  it  not  early  hi  the  season  to  begin  the  tour  of  the  Southern 
States  ?" 

"  He  will  go  West  first,"  rejoined  the  Colonel.     "  Katherine  1" 

"  Sir  ?"  said  the  girl,  showing  her  white,  shocked  face. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  alarm  yon,  my  child.  I  was  merely  about 
to  remark  that,  of  course,  Mr.  Argyle  paid  a  farewell  visit  at  his 
sister's  while  you  were  there." 

"  She  is  ill !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

She  untied  her  daughter's  bonnet,  and  made  her  lean  against 
her  shoulder,  while  Mrs.  Holt  fanned  her. 

"  I  thought  you  were  not  looking  well  when  we  met  you  this 
morning,"  she  said,  brushing  back  the  falling  curls  with  a  tender, 
motherly  touch  that  brought  the"  tears  to  poor  Katherine's  eyes. 
Mrs.  Rashleigh's  voice  betrayed  no  emotion.  "  You  have  been 
keeping  late  hours,  I  am  afraid." 

"  Nothing  is  more  deleterious  to  the  health  of  a  young  lady," 
remarked  the  Colonel.  "  I  am  displeased  that  Robert  and  hia 
wife  should  sanction  such  irregularities." 

Katheriae  could  not  defend  her  hospitable  entertainers  ;  could 
do  nothing  more  than  smile  faintly  to  assure  the  anxious  watchers 
of  her  countenance  that  she  was  reviving.  She  had  nevei 
fiiint-ed  in  her  life.  She  did  not  believe  she  would  have  fainte<f 


572  NEMESIS. 

tow,  but  for  one  blind  second,  the  day  and  the  earth  seemed  It 
have  passed  away,  and  left  her  to  a  horror  of  darkness  a  black 
and  chilling  void. 

Her  father  would  have  her  take  no  arm  but  his,  when  the) 
reached  home,  and  assisted  her  up  to  her  room.  Her  mothei 
banished  governess  and  maid,  and  aided  in  disrobing  her,  silently, 
and  without  demonstration  of  affection,  yet,  as  Katherine  realized, 
with  a  sort  of  sympathy  very  soothing  and  very  strange. 

"  Indeed,  mamma,  you  will  fatigue  yourself  I"  she  expostulated. 
"  I  was  only  a  little  giddy  and  sick,  and  it  is  over  now.  I  am 
quite  able  to  wait  on  myself,  if  you  persist  in  recommending  me 
to  lie  down." 

"  The  sun  is  warm  to-day,  and  the  carriage  was  close.  These 
were  sufficient  to  produce  your  indisposition,  joined  to  your  irre- 
gular habits  at  your  cousin's.  I  am  not  inclined  to  view  it  as  a 
serious  matter.  A  couple  of  hours  of  undisturbed  slumber  will 
do  you  good." 

Katherine  put  her  arms  around  her  mother's  neck,  as  she  laid 
a  shawl  over  her. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  mamma  1"  Her  heart  was  bursting  to 
add,  "  you  will  let  me  love  you — will  you  not  ?"  but  timidity 
restrained  her. 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  kissed  her  quietly,  and  bidding  her  "  sleep  and 
awake  well,"  left  her. 

The  sun  was  not  an  hour  high,  when  ahe  again  entered  the 
chamber  and  stooped  above  the  bed.  Katheriue  was  very  pale, 
and  there  was  a  worn,  weary  look  about  the  brpw  and  mouth, 
while  the  eyelids  were  swollen,  as  with  passionate  and  long- 
continued  weeping.  The  mother  touched  the  pillow  and  a  hand- 
kerchief that  lay  upon  it.  Both  were  damp,  and  her  owu 
forehead  contracted  in  a  spasm  of  displeasure  or  pain.  Shu 
clenched  her  hands  and  gazed  steadfastly  upon  her  child,  dark 
clouds  and  ominous  driving  over  her  face.  It  was  as  if  sh« 


W  K  M  E  8  I  S  .  37? 

renewed  aomc  stern  resolution,  before  the  rigid  lines  relaxed,  and 
a  beam  of  compassionate  love,  that  was  akin  to  angelic  pity, 
illumined  her  features.  She  bent  to  kiss  the  brow  of  the  sleepei*. 
Light  as  was  the  touch,  Katherine  awoke  with  a  sobbmg  gasp 
and  sat  upright. 

"  Mamma  !  is  it  you  ?     Am  I  at  home  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  daughter." 

"  May  I  stay  here  always,  please,  mamma  ?" 

"  Until  you  choose  to  go,"  answered  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  without 
noticing  her  incoherency.  "  Mr.  Laidley  is  downstairs,  and  I 
thought  you  would  like  to  meet  him.  Have  you  had  a  refreshing 
sleep  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam  !" 

Katherine  sighed  wearily,  as  she  arose  to  perform  the  duties 
of  her  toilet. 

"  I  am  not  lazy — only  tired  1"  she  said,  hi  excuse.  "  Dissipa- 
tion does  not  suit  me." 

"  You  need  have  no  more,  unless  you  like  to  make  a  second 
experiment.  I  had  my  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  this  one,  but 
your  father  and  cousins  were  so  strenuous  hi  their  desire,  that  I 
could  not  refuse  them." 

"  My  cousins  were  kind  to  me — so  were  their  visitors.  They 
treated  me  with  great  attention.  It  was  nobody's  fault  but  my 
own  that  I  did  not  have  a  happier  time." 

"  Are  you  wide  awake  and  strong  enough  to  answer  some 
questions  pertaining  to  this  visit,  or  more  properly  speaking,  to 
some  of  the  persons  whom  you  met  at  Montrouge  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam."  But  Katherine's  knees  trembled,  and  sna 
leaned  all  her  weight  against  the  dressing-table. 

"  My  catechism  does  not  relate  to  yourself,  nor  am  I  ready  to 
tell  you  exactly  why  my  inquiries  are  made. '  Yon  have  quick 
eyes  and  a  thoughtful  mind.  Did  anything  transpire  while  you 
were  at  Mr.  Moreau's  to  iuduce  you  to  suspect  that  Mr.  Bancroft 


374  NEMESIS. 

Dad  an  undue  influence  over  your  cousin,  and  that  he  exerted  thia 
to  accomplish  his  own  ends  ?  Take  your  time,  and  think  well, 
whether- any  circumstance,  overlooked  at  the  moment  it  occurred, 
would  bear  this  construction." 

Katherine  reverted  instantly  to  the  conversation  she  had  acci- 
dentally heard  in  the  woods  on  the  third  day  of  her  visit,  and 
she  narrated  the  incident. 

A  triumphant  flash  shot  from  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  eyes. 

"  This  is  more  than  I  could  have  hoped  for  I  You  are  positive 
that  you  have  repeated  their  very  words  !  Stay  1"  She  took 
paper  and  pencil  from  a  desk. 

"  Say  them  over  again— very  carefully — while  I  write  " 

In  utter  amazement,  her  daughter  obeyed. 

The  few  sentences  were  noted  down,  and  with  the  paper  in  her 
hand,  Mrs.  Rashleigh  arose. 

"  You  are  too  discreet  to  be  treated  as  a  child,  Katherine.  I 
may  say  to  you  that  I  have  no  respect  for  Mr.  Sancroft  or  his 
father,  and  that  I  have  discovered  what  your  father  does  not  see, 
the  unbounded  power  of  the  younger  man  over  Mr.  Moreau's 
weaker  mind.  This  can  tend  only  to  mischief,  but,  while  I  can  do 
nothing  to  avert  it,  if  I  would,  it  is  well  to  be  sure  with  whom  the 
evil  originated.  This  is  all  you  need  or  ought  to  know,  at  present. 
Say  nothing  to  any  one  of  what  you  have  repeated  to  me.  I  am 
now  going  down  to  the  parlor.  Shall  I  send  your  maid  to  you  ?" 

Mr.  Laidley  sat  in  the  stateliest  of  the  state-chairs  in  the  dark- 
green  drawing-room,  listening,  with  his  open,  pleasant  counte- 
nance, to  the  Colonel's  exposition  of-  the  tenets  and  prejudices  to 
which  he,  as  a  staunch  churchman,  subscribed ;  his  eye  glancing 
occasionally  from  his  host,  to  the  fret-work  of  gold  the  declining 
sun  cast  through  the  trees  and  the  windows,  high  upon  the  east- 
ern wall  of  the  apartment,  when  a  slight  figure  appeared  in  the 
doorway,  leading  into  the  hall.  So  white  of  raiment  and  com- 
plexion was  it — so  noise! A-,  on,  that  the  good  man  sprang 


NEMESIS.  375 

np  from  his  chair  with  nioi;e   suddenness  than  mere  gallantrj 

required. 

x  Colonel  liashleigh  introduced  his  daughter  ;  she  courtcsied  and 

withdrew  to  a  seat,  but  Mr.  Laidley's  eyes  still  sought  her,  iw 

thoughtful   inquiry.      Its.  purport  was   made   manifest,  after  a 

while. 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Rashleigh  !  but  your  countenance  is  so  fa- 
miliar  to  me  I  must  believe  that  I  have  seen  you  before — I  could 
say  in  less  happy  circumstances  than  those  in  which  I  now  find 
you." 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  an  introduction  to  you  last  May,  at  the 
Presbyterial  meeting,"  replied  Katherinc,  blushing  deeply. 

"  Ah  !  I  have  some  recollection  of  it.  Mrs.  Moreau  was  with 
you,  if  I  mistake  not." 

"  She  was,  sir." 

"  I  knew  your  face  for  that  of  an  acquaintance,  in  the  congre- 
gation this  forenoon,  but  could  not  name  the  place  or  period  of 
our  meeting.  Can  that  be  the  only  interview  we  have  ever  had?" 

"  I  am  ignorant  of  any  other,  sir." 

"  I  am  growing  old — sight  and  memory  are  failing  together  1" 
said  Mr.  Laidley,  putting  his  hand  to  his  forehead.  "  I  used  to 
pride  myself  upon  my  accurate  remembrance  of  features  and 
names.  Now,  instead  of  a  clear  mirror,  there  is  a  blurred,  treach- 
erous surface,  that  confuses,  more  than  it  aids  me.  Whence,  for 
instance,  should  I  derive  the  impression  that  I  have  seen  and 
talked  with  you  in  a  more  humble  sphere  than  that  in  which  you 
were  born,  had  spoken  words  of  consolation  to  you,  in  the  cham- 
ber of  the  dying  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,  indeed,  sir  1"  replied  Katherine,  with  a  shiver. 
Interested,  despite  her  engrossing  sadness,  she  continued  :  "  I  am 
often  troubled  with  like  unaccountable  fancies — have  an  incorri 
gible  habit — an  unconquerable  facility  of  recollecting  events  that 
v- ••. -'f  happened — thai  is,  in  my  ju<  I  am 


376  NEMES  18  . 

disposed,  sometimes,  to  believe  that  I  have  lired  in  this  world 
before  1  entered  the  body  I  wear  now — my  imaginations  of  pep 
sons  and  scenes  I  can  never  have  beheld  with  these  eyes,  are  so 
vivid  and  consistent — far  more  so  than  any  dream-pictures." 

"  Such  speculations' are  very  tempting.     We  have  all  a  vein  of 

superstition  which  craves  the  marvellous.     Yet,  I  doubt  not  that 

hese  fancies  of  ours,  could,  if  we  had  the  clue,  be  traced — if  not 

to  dreams  and  stories  heard  and  read — to  actual  events  in  our 

experience,  partly  forgotten  or  blended  with  others." 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  offer  so  simple  a  solution  of  the 
mournful  associations  you  have  connected  with  Miss  Rashleigh," 
ventured  Mrs.  Holt,  "  I  would  remind  you,  Mr.  Laidley,  that  you 
met  her  twice  on  the  day  of  your  introduction,  and  the  second 
tune,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  grave.  I  allude  to  that  on  the 
hill  in  the  rear  of  the  church." 

"  Is  it  indeed  so  ?  I  hadx  forgotten  the  encounter,  although  1 
remember  the  visit.  I  had  never  been  there  before.  May  I  in- 
quire, Miss  Rashleigh,  if  you  were  drawn  to  that  spot  by  any 
special  interest  in  him  whose  remains  are  there  entombed  ?" 

"  I  was  not,  sir.  The  discovery  of  the  grave  was  wholly 
accidental,  and  until  I  read  the  name  upon  the  headstone,  I  had 
no  knowledge  of  the  deceased." 

"  You  have  learned  his  history  since  then  ?" 

Katherine  paused,  but  mastering  he^  reluctance  to  near  a  theme 
which  could  not  be  otherwise  than  excessively  painful  to  her,  she 
replied  :  "  Only  that  he  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Argyle's." 

"  From  whom  did  you  hear  thus  much,  if  it  is  not  an  imperti- 
nent question?" 

"  From  Mr.  Argyle  himself.  I  hare  never  questioned  any  oui 
else." 

"  And  his  modesty  would  not  have  allowed  hiin  to  tell  you  a 
story  that  reflects  such  honor  upon  himself,  if  there  were  no  otbfi/ 
reasons  why  he  should  avoid  the  topic." 


NEMESIS.  371 

"  rhaye  noted  this  extreme  modesty  in  Mr.  Argyle's  character 
ft  is  a  remarkable  trait,"  said  the  Colonel.     "  Nothing  displ* 
me  more  hi  the  rising  generation  of  young  ;uen  than  their  inordi- 
nate self-esteem." 

"  There  never  was  an  ignoble  trait  in  Malcolm  Argyle's  dispo- 
sition,"  returned  Mr.  Laidley.  "  I  have  known  him  from  hia 
boyhood  ;  from  his  babyhood,  I  may  say,  for  I  baptized  him  as 
his  mother  held  him  in  her  arms.  Many  and  hard  things  have 
been  said  concerning  the  unsocial  habits  of  the  man,  but  he  is  far 
more  sinned  against  than  sinning.  Sensitive  and  honorable  to  a 
fault  ;  fervent  and  stable  in  his  attachments,  it  is  no  wonder  that 
certain  events  in  his  past  life  have  left  indelible  traces  upon  hia 
heart  and  manner." 

Dusk  cauie  early  hi  that  room,  and  Katherine  blessed  the 
gathering  shades  that  veiled  her  changing  cheek  and  quivering 
frame  from  the  sight  of  the  other  auditors.  Mrs.  Holt  maintained 
her  ladylike  attitude  of  respectful  attention  ;  Mrs.  Rashleigh  leaned 
back  in  her  chair,  taciturn  and  statuesque.  It  was  impossible  to 
say  whether  she  listened  or  mused  or  slept. 

"  Ah  I"  said  the  Colonel,  politely,  but  sleepily. 

The  governess,  reminded  by  his  tone  that  it  was  the  hour  of  hw 
evening  nap,  caine  to  the  rescue. 

"  He  has  had  trying  bereavements,  then,  sir  ?  Of  what  nature, 
pray  ?" 

"  With  some  I  am  acquainted  only  by  heresay,  of  others  I  ana 
not  at  liberty  to  speak.  But  since  you,  madam,  have  referred  to 
the  circumstance  of  meeting  him  and  myself  at  that  lonely  grave,  1 
may  give  the  outlines  of  a  story  that  has  cast  a  permanent  gloom 
over  a  spirit,  as  tender  as  buoyant.  The  '  friend '  buried  there  was 
a  poor  shoemaker,  who  settled  just  without  the  bounds  of  the 
Argyle  plantation.  He  possessed  unusual  attainments  for  his 
station  ;  had  a  sound  education  and  the  manners  of  a  thorough 
gentleman  Withal,  he  was  a  man  of  sincere  piety,  as  I  had  ex 


#78  NEMESIS. 

cellenl  opportunities  of  knowing.  Young  Argyle  conceived  aa 
.ardent  friendship  for  his  lowly  neighbor,  even  prior  to  an  accident 
which  made  him  an  invalid  resident  of  his  house  for  many  weeks. 
After  this,  he  regarded  him  as  the  saviour  of  his  life,  and  spared 
no  pains  to  secure  him  a  lucrative  business  and  a  competency  of 
worldly  goods.  Then  Argyle  went  abroad,  and  how  it  happened 
I  have  never  rightly  understood,  but  through  a  series  of  unfortu- 
nate misunderstandings,  an  estrangement  grew  up  between  the 
tenant,  Hale,  and  the  senior  Argyle,  his  landlord.  While  this 
was  at  its  height,  Hale  was  laid  low  with  a  lingering  disease,  and 
reduced  to  extreme  poverty.  The  sequel  of  the  sad  affair  was 
that  he  was  arrested  at  the  suit  of  Mr.  Argyle,  or  his  agent,  for 
the  real  creditor  always  denied  any  knowledge  of  the  harsh  mea- 
cures  of  his  deputy  ;  his  goods  seized  and  himself  imprisoned.  The 
exposure  and  excitement  aggravated  his  malady,  and  he  died 
within  three  days  after  his  removal." 

"  Such  barbarity  seems  incredible  1"  exclaimed  Katheriue. 

"  As  do  many  other  things  of  daily  occurrence  among  civilized 
men  1"  replied  Mr.  Laidley.  "  I  chanced  to  stop  at  the  Court 
House  Tavern  the  night  Hale  died,  and  hearing  of  his  case  and 
who  he  was,  remembered  him  as  one  who  had  once  given  me 
shelter  in  a  storm,  and  won  my  respect  and  good  will  by  his  intel- 
ligent conversation  and  kind  hospitality.  I  visited  him,  and  find- 
ing him  very  near  his  end,  remained  until  all  was  over.  Such 
Christian  courage  and  faith  I  have  seldom  had  the  privilege  of 
beholding.  He  left  a  wife,  a  very  pretty  young  woman,  who  waa 
deeply  attached  to  him,  and  one  cliPd,  perhaps  more — I  remember 
only  one.  They  were  provided  by  the  charitable  neighbors  with 
funds  to  enable  them  to  reach  their  relations,  and  I  have  never 
heard  of  them  since.  Meanwhile  Argyle  was  profoundly  ignorant 
of  the  misfortunes  of  his  proteges.  By  a  cruel  mischance,  or  more 
truly  speaking,  a  mysterious  Providence,  he  never  received  cither 
P(  the  two  letters  written  to  him  ou  the  subject  by  one  whoui  he  had 


N  E  M  K  S  I  8  .  379 

commissioned  to  watch  over  his  friends  during  liis  absence  ;  the  old 
housekeeper  and  nurse,  who  yet  has  charge  of  his  establishment/ 

"  Was  it  never  suppose;!  that  the  letters  were  intercepted?" 

The  query  came  from  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  but  the  accents  \v- 
sharp  and  dry  that  Katheriue  could  scarcely  believe  them  he! 
nother's. 

"  There  was  a  whisper  of  some  such  thing,  I  think,  but  it  was 
generally  treated  as  unfounded  scandal,  and  soon  died  away.  I 
fear  that  the  rumor  was  set  afloat  by  poor  Argyle's  imprudent 
invectives  against  all  who  had  the  opportunity  to  injure  the 
Hales.  He  acted  like  one  bereft  of  reason,  when,  on  his  return 
home,  he  learned  the  calamity  that  had  befallen  them.  His 
impetuosity  and  unsparing  denunciation  of  the  agents  in  the  sad 
affair,  occasioned  a  rupture  between  himself  and  several  of  his 
old  acquaintances,  who  sought  to  mollify  his  resentment — and,  it 
was  said,  came  near  producing  a  family  feud.  One  very  natural 
and  commendable  desire  was  uppermost  in  his  breast — to  seek  out 
the  surviving  members  of  the  ill-fated  family,  and  make  what  res- 
titution he  could  ;  but  here  again  the  way  was  hedged  up.  Mrs. 
Hale  had  left  her  address  with  the  worthy  hostess  of  the  village 
inn,  who  had  cared  for  hor  husband,  during  his  imprisonment,  as 
if  he  had  been  her  own  sou  ;  but  she  was  no  letter-writer,  and 
when  Argyle  called  on  her  for  the  direction,  she  had  lost  or  mis- 
laid  it.  Notwithstanding  this  hindrance,  he  sent  letters  North, 
East,  West  and  South,  in  quest  of  the  mis-ing  woman,  but  with- 
out effect ;  nor  has  he  ever  obtained  the  leant  information  con- 
cerning them.  The  remains  of  poor  Hale  he  caused  to  be  rovuovod 
to  the  beautiful  spot  where  they  now  rest,  and  has  found  a  melan- 
choly satisfaction  in  tending  the  grave.  People  sneered  at  him 
as  romantic  and  eccentric,  but  he  paid  no  heed  to  ridicule  01 
argument, 

"4  have  told  you  a  long  tale,  Miss  Rashleigh — a  gossiping 
recital,  you  ^ay  think,  better  suiku  :;neii1;:]  girl,  than  a 


380  NEMESIS. 

man  who  has  outlived  the  age  of  ronance  ;  but  Argyle  H  a 
hobby  of  mine.  He  refreshes  me,  after  the  scores  of  everyday, 
practical  beings  I  am  in  the  habit  of  meeting.  His  life  has  been 
an  unwritten  tragedy.  Stern  and  cynical,  as  he  is  called,  I  tel] 
you  there  is  more  heart  in  him  now — locked  up  though  its  trea-^ 
sures  are — than  in  any  other  ten  men  that  I  know." 

"  And  this  is  the  heart — these  are  the  treasures  I  have  flung 
awayl"  thought  Katherine,  while  the  great  tears  were  crushed 
under  her  eyelids.  "  Now,  I  would  be  his  slave — anything — that 
would  give  me  a  right  to  be  near  him  always  and  minister  to  him, 
if  by  so  doing  I  could  pour  one  drop  of  sweet  into  a  cup  that 
others  have  filled  with  wormwood.  What  a  weak,  vain,  petulant 
creature  I  have  been  1" 

Mrs.  Holt  was  assuredly  one  of  the  people  who  are  put  into  the 
world  to  "  fill  up  a  chink."  She  was  not  garrulous,  although 
prosy — not  obtrusive,  although  pedantic.  When  no  one  else 
would  speak,  she  did  ;  when  others  were  voluble,  she  personified 
the  "  mute  angel  of  attention."  Katherine  could  not  articulate  ; 
Mrs.  Rashleigh  rarely  cared  to  offer  a  voluntary  remark,  and  the 
Colonel's  heavy  breathing  attested  his  inability  to  pronounce  an 
opinion  upon  a  story  that  had  sent  him  forty  leagues,  at  least, 
into  the  land  of  dreams,  he  having  succumbed  to  Somnus  before 
the  preliminary  paragraph  was  ended.  Age  and  an  apoplectic 
tendency  were  valiant  opponents  to  his  conscientious  politeness. 

"  We  h'kewise  esteem  Mr.  Argyle  very  highly,"  said  Mrs. 
Holt.  "  And  since  we  have  heard  your  thrilling  narrative,  Mr. 
Laidley,  our  appreciation  of  his  worth  must  of  necessity  be  far 
more  just.  His  trials  have  been  numerous,  and  we  cannot  help 
hoping  that  his  compensation  may  be  ample — that  '  the  winter  o( 
his  discontent '  is  nearly  over,  and  he  may  forget  it  in  a  '  giori« 
ous  summer.' " 

There  can  never  be  invented  a  more  effectual  quietus  to  over- 
wrought  feeling  than  the  intensely  trite  speeches  winch  your  well 


NEMESIS.  381 

.K-red,  smooth-tongued  nonentity  keeps  continually  oa  hand.  The 
'  sfry  "  that  makes  ridiculous  the  sublime,  is  as  nothing  to  the 
down-toppling  of  elevated  sensations  and  exalted  sentiments 
before  his  or  her  properly-delivered  sentence.  Society  owes  such 
weight-and  pulley  machines  much  for  bringing  down  upon  the 
run,  aspiring  theorists  and  heated  romancists.  If  this  were  Mrs. 
Holt's  mission,  she  performed  it  faithfully. 

KatherLue  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered  that  lights  should  be 
brought  in  ;  for  there  were  arabesques  of  silver  moonlight  on  the 
wall  where  the,  sunlight  had  played  when  she  entered  the  room. 
Mrs.  Rashleigh  arose  and  walked  down  the  apartment  with  her 
Blow,  proud  step,  to  the  door  of  the  smaller  parlor.  The  Colonel, 
awakened  by  the  cessation  of  Mr.  Laidley's  voice,  sneezed  and 
L/mmed  to  rid  himself  of  the  fogs  his  head  and  {hroat  had 
gathered  in  the  Sleepy  Hollow  into  which  he  had  made  an 
2~cursion. 

"  Yet  the  Established  Church  must  have  been,  at  one  time,  the 
kgal  religion  of  your  commonwealth,  Mr.  Laidley.  Of  course-  I 
favor  toleration  and  freedom  of  conscience  ;  but  I  am  alwayi 
displeased  at  innovation  in  ecclesiastical  affairs — at  whatevei 
leans  toward  liberalism  in  the  church." 


882  V  E  M  £  8  1 1 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

ONE  day,  near  the  later  part  of  October,  the  younger  Bancroft 
made  his  appearance  at  Montrouge  in  a  state  of  the  utmost 
excitement.  Luckily,  Mrs.  Moreau  was  not  at  home,  or  his  tone 
and  gesture  as  he  met  her  husband  in  the  porch,  must  have 
aroused  a  curiosity  the  two  cronies  would  have  been  puzzled  to 
evade. 

"  Here's  a  precious  stew  !"  was  Bancroft's  exclamation.  "All 
the  lying  and  thieving  I  have  planned  and  you  executed  have 
done  no  good.  Sit  down  1" — pulling  him  to  a  bench — "  and  read 
what  the  old  man  received  this  morning,  from  that  cunning  fox — 
Hammond  1" 

It  was  a  professional  letter,  stating,  with  as  little  verbiage  as 
was  compatible  with  technicalities,  that  the  writer  had  detected 
several  grave  errors  in  the  review  of  Mr.  Bancroft's  accounts — • 
discrepancies  between  the  bills  he  had  presented  as  the  lawful 
demands  of  various  parties  to  whom  Colonel  Rashleigh  was 
indebted,  and  what  purported  to  be  duplicate  bills  which  he — 
Hammond — had  subsequently  obtained  from  said  parties.  Then 
followed  the  errata  in  detail — revealing  the  frightful  fact  that,  in 
every  instance,  Mr.  Bancroft's  bill  was  for  a  larger  amount  than 
was  named  by  each  creditor,  as  his  just  claim,  and  that  in  pro- 
portion to  the  distance  of  their  places  of  residence  from  Briar 
wood  was  the  increase  of  the  difference  in  the  two  sums. 

"  Tolerable  mileage  that  I"  said  Bancroft,  striking  a  name 
tvith  his  finger.  "  But  go  on  I  Hear  him  through  !" 


NEMESIS.  363  ' 

In  view  of  this  serious  and  remarkable  conflict  of  testimony, 
Mr.  Hammond  said,  it  was  the  wish  of  his  client,  Colonel  Rash 
leigh,  that    Mr.  Sancroft  should   be  called  upon   to   rendr;r  an 
explanation  of  a  matter  reflecting  heavily  upon  his  correctness  as 
an  accountant,  or  his  fidelity  as  an  agent,  or  his  integrity  as  a 
man  ;  to  show  forth  cause  why  a   suit  should  not  be  instituted 
against    him    for   having  extorted   money  upon   false   preten« 
The   letter   begged,  furthermore,  that    an   early  day  might   be 
appointed  for  the  private  investigation  of  the  ca 

The  sweat  broke  out  all  over  Moreau's  body  as  he  read — 
rolled  in  big  globules  from  his  forehead. 

"  Good  gracious,  Sancroft  !  How  did  this  happen  ?" 
"  Don't  lose  your  wits,  man  !  you  need  the  few  you  have,  more 
than  you  ever  did  before,  and  you  think  you  have  been  in  some 
tight  places.  '  How  did  this  happen  ?'  Why,  the  sly  rascal 
must  have  made  a  memoranda  of  all  the  loose  bills  wherein  lay 
the  danger  to  my  honest  paternal.  No  wonder  he  was  so  willing 
to  intrust  them  to  your  careless  handling,  when  he  had  them 
inventoried  upon  his  private  sheet  !  What  a  ninny  you  were  not 
to  think  of  that  1" 

"  But  he  cannot  show  the  bills  in  your  father's  handwriting  V 
And  Mr.  Moreau's  crest  arose.  "  You  don't  recollect  that  !" 

"  What  good  will  that  quibble  do  with  the  long  head  you  are 
for  pitting  your  numbskull  against  ?  He  never  would  havo 
taken  this  audacious  step  without  evidence  to  bear  him  out.  Ten 
to  one,  he  has  tracked  you,  and  having  done  this,  to  scent  out 
the  instigator  of  your  matchless  strategy,  is  as  easy  as  to  add 
two  and  two  together." 

"  Tracked  me  !  How  could  he  ?  We  would  have  heard  of  i-t 
before  now,  if  suspicion  had  fallen  upon  me  or  upon  any  one. 
When  I  left  the  office,  both  doors  were  wide  open,  and  the  papers 
flying  everywhere.  I  dare  him  to  charge  me  with  purloining  one 
of  them  1" 


384  NEMESIS. 

"  Heroics  are  unbecoming  iu  a  lily-livered  chap  like  y 
Moreau.  You  dare  him,  indeed  !  It  is  as  easy  to  see  as  the 
nose  on  your  face,  that  you  '  would  have  heard  of  it  if  suspicion 
bad  not  fallen  upon '  you  I  Your  uncle  would  have  referred  to  it, 
or  Hammond — in  some  of  the  dozen  thnevB  yon  have  seen  him 
since.  Hasn't  he  talked — yes !  and  laughed  too — the  scamp  1 
about  the  cows  getting  into  his  corn  ?  and  have  not  you,  with 
exquisite  address,  inquired  about  'your  mutual  task,'  and  asked 
to  be  admitted  as  a  law-student  !  You  don't  remember  chuckling 
over  that  bit  of  smartness  with  me,  not  a  week  ago — hey  ?  I 
distrusted  then  his  reserve  on  the  subject  of  his  loss.  I  could 
knock  you  down  when  I  think  how  he  was  grinning  in  his  sleeve 
at  your  overdone  folly.  Distraction  1  why  are  some'people  born 
fools  ?" 

"  Upon  my  word,  Sancroft,  you  talk  as  if  I  were  the  only 
person  who  had  a  hand  in  this  dirty  work  1  Didn't  you  force  me 
into  it  ?  I  never  would  have  chosen  the  job  of  my  own  accord. 
It  doesn't  stand  to  reason  that  I  would  rob  my  own  kin  to  benefit 
yours,  just  for  the  pleasure  of  the  thing.  I  must  say  your  iau- 
guage  is  anything  but  kind — considering  the  trouble  and  risk  I 
have  been  at,  to  oblige  you." 

"  Stop  your  whimpering  !  It  was  a  legitimate  bargain.  Said 
I — '  Moreau,  my  fine  fellow,  I  hold  your  note  for  so  much — a 
debt  of  honor  between  gentlemen,  you  had  as  lief  should  not  be 
talked  of,  even  in  the  bosom  of  your  family.  My  revered  patri- 
arch, being  slightly  in  his  dotage,  has  been  using  your  uncle's 
confidence  to  subserve  his  own  personal  advantage,  and  the 
proofs  thereof  are  in  the  possession  of  Hammond.  I  will  furnish 
you  with  a  description  of  these  mischievous  papers,  the  examina- 
tion of  which  Hammond  had  not  commenced  yesterday,  for  I 
overheard  him  say  so.  Get  a  permit  from  your  uncle — amiabli 
and  unsophisticated  greybeard  that  he  is  !  which  shall  give  you 
access  to  them.  When  you  have  identified  the  ones  we  want. 


NEMESIS.  885 

signal  to  me  from  the  window,  and  I  engage  to  effect  a  diversion 
of  the  lynx  eye.  Bring  me  the  bills,  and  I  deliver  up  your  bond 
—paper  for  paper— rthat  is  equity  1'  After  an  immensity  of 
instruction  and  drilling,  you  undertook  the  commission,  and  the 
master  you  serve  helped  you  through  so  famously  that  I  ought 
to  have  been  on  the  look-out  for  worse  mischief — but  I  was  not. 
I  earned  the  patriarchal  blessing  and  a  trifle  in  advance  of  rny 
patrimony  ;  yon  had  four  note  back,  and  retained  your  average 
amount  of  public  respect,  not  to  mention  domestic  felicity." 

"  You  arc  as  cool  as  a  cucumber,  Sancroft  1  when  I  am  going 
crazy  !  How  are  you  going  to  get  out  of  this  awful  scrape  ?" 

"  I  am  not  in  it,  in  the  first  place.  All  my  solicitude  is  for 
you  and  my  distressed  parent.  He  cheated,  or  tried  to  ;  yon 
stole  ;  while  my  hands  are  clean — every  whit  !" 

"  You  were  at  the  bottom  of  all  that  I  did." 

"  Maybe  so  ;  but  you  will  find  that  a  difficult  thing  to  prove, 
my  dear  boy  !  Who  would  believe  you  on  your  oath  when  youi 
share  in  the  transaction  is  made  known  ?  But  we  are  jumping 
at  the  conclusion  that  Hammond  certainly  holds  trumps.  My 
distracted  senior  has  committed  the  righting  of  his  fame  to  my 
acumen,  and,  as  a  primary  move,  we  must  pump  Hammond ; 
make  him  show  his  hand,  and  bully,  if  we  cannot  convince  him 
Come  along  1" 

"  Must  I  go  ?  You  will  get  on  so  much  better  without  me  I" 
pleaded  Moreau. 

The  most  crafty  serpents  do  unwise  things  sometimes,  and 
Bancroft  tugged  his  trembling  tool  after  him  to  the  lawyer's  house. 
A  carnage  was  driven  away  from  the  door  as  they  came  in  sight 
of  it,  and  passed  them  in  the  lane.  It  was  Colonel  Rashleigh's, 
and  within  it  were  Mrs.  Rashleigh  and  her  English  maid 

"  Aha  !"  nodded  Sancroft,  sardonically,  replacing  the  nat  he 

had  lifted,  receiving  a  proud  bow  in  return.     "  That  is  the  blade 

.  that  cuts  so  smoothly  !     I  thought  it  did  not  feel  like  a  blunt 


386  NEMESIS. 

English  cleaver.     Moreau  !  has  that  woman  any  excuse  tor  hat 
ing  you  ?" 

"  Me  1  none  that  I  know  of  1  We  have  had  very  little  .,0  do 
with  one  another." 

"  Ditto  for  your  humble  servant  !  Yet  I  have  a  notion  that 
she  loves  us  both  alike,  and  is  not  enamored  with  either.  She  is 
just  the  sort  of  a  woman  to  deify  a  spite  ;  to  carry  a  stone  in  her 
pocket  for  seven  years,  turn  it,  and  carry  it  seven  years  longer, 
and  then  dash  out  one's  brains  with  it  at  last.  And  your  uncle  is 
no-  better  than  a  piece  of  wax  in  her  hands.  He  is  a  solemn  prig 
— a  pompous  puppet  !  She  works  the  wires." 

"  He  dotes  on  her,  that's  a  fact  !  My  wife  found  that  out  the 
first  time  she  saw  them  together.  For  my  part,  I  could  as  soou 
love  a  graven  image — a  marble  tombstone  !  What  awful,  ghostly 
eyes  she  has  !  When  she  fixes  them  on  me  they  make  me,  some- 
how, think  of  all  the  evil  I  ever  did  in  my  life." 

"  You  never  lack  food  for  reflection  in  her  company,  then  i 
But  here  we  are,  and  there  is  Hammond,  smiling  as  a  May  morn- 
ing !  Confound  his  impudence  !  Now,  swear  to  all  I  say,  and 
don't  venture  an  original  observation  for  your  life  !" 
t  Mr.  Hammond's  reception  of  the  promising  pair  was  perfectly 
polite — not  cordial.  Even  Moreau  discovered  that  they  went 
met  as  business  acquaintances,  not  neighbors  and  friends. 

Mr.  Sancroft  led  off  with  a  message  from  his  father,  who  waa 
inconceivably  astounded  at  the  intelligence  contained  in  Mr. 
Hammond's  communication.  During  the  thirty  years  in  which  he 
had  pursued  the  calling  of  an  agent  and  accountant,  this  circum- 
stance had  no  precedent. 

Mr.  Hammond  thought  that  more  than  probable.  He  had 
himself  been  confounded  by  the  number  of  errors  and  the  amounts 
involved.  It  was  an  incomprehensible  affair. 

Mr.  Sancroft  might  be  excused,  if  with  all  his  respect  for  Mr. 
Hammond's  skill  in  his  profession  and  unquestionable  veracity  as 


N  KM  ESI  8.  387 

•  gentleman,  lie  yet  declined  to  believe  in  the  extraordinary,  list 
of  errata,  without  personal  and  minute  examination  of  the  original 
papers. 

Mr.  Hammond  rejoined  that  the  original  papers  had  never  been 
transferred  to  bun.  Mr.  Sancroft,  Senior,  had  only  supplied  him 
•with  bills  drawn  up  in  his  own  handwriting.  The  accounts  from 
which  these  were  compiled  were,  many  of  them,  as  he  had  been 
given  to  understand,  informal  statements,  embodied  in  letters 
from  illiterate  men.  Mr.  Sancroft  had  had  considerable  difficulty 
in  deciphering  them,  and  to  spare  Colonel  Rashleigh  the  trouble, 
he  Lad  taken  pains  to  copy  them  out  fairly  aud  number  them, 
besides  entering  their  several  amounts  on  his  accouut-book.  Said 
bills,  when  paid  by  Colonel  Rashleigh,  were  to  have  offsets  in  the 
&hape  of  receipts  from  their  several  authors.  Mr.  Bancroft  had 
undoubtedly  taken  unusual,  and  he  might  add,  superfluous  trouble, 
in  simplifying  and  arranging  these  papers.  Superfluous,  since  he 
(Mr.  Hammond)  had  deemed  it  proper  to  waive  these  consider- 
ate endeavors  to  elucidate  matters  for  Colonel  Rashleigh's  couve 
uieuce,  and  returning  to  first  principles,  had  applied  to  the  debtors 
for  duplicate  bills,  over  their  own  signatures.  Colonel  Rashleigh, 
although  au  Englishman)  was  yet  competent  to  the  management 
of  an  ordinary  transaction  of  buying  and  selling.  The  straightest 
course  was  generally  the  safest  in  the  long  run. 

Sancroft  winced  at  this  gratuitous  moral  adage. 

"  You  do  not  object,  however,  Mr.  Hammond,  to  my  seeing 
these  bills,  as  made  out  in  my  father's  hand  ?" 

"  You  will  find  exact  copies  of  them,  here,  sir."     Mr.  Ham- 
Blond  took  down  an  account-book. 

"  These  are  in  your  writing,  sir  ;  I  asked  for  the  originals." 

"  1  repeat,  Mr.  Saucroft,  that  your  father  never  surrendered 
the  originals  to  my  client  or  myself." 

"  May  I  inquire,  Mr.  Hammond,  why  yon  denominate  Colonel 
Rttsl.H^b  your  '  client  ?'     You  are  not  serious  in  your  threat 


388  NEMESIS. 

of  a  suit  upon  such  ground  as  is  supplied  by  these  twice-copied 
bills  ?" 

"  J  propose,  sir,  in  the  beginning  to  obtain  from  your  fathu 
the  original  letters,  which  he,  with  singular  carelessness  for  a  mat 
of  his  exact  habits,  has,  he  declares,  mislaid.  The  case  will  then 
rest  upon  a  comparison  of  these  with  the  bills  exhibited  to  Colo-, 
nel  Rashleigh  by  Mr.  Sancroft,-  Senior." 

"  But  you  cannot  produce  them,  you  know  !"  burst  out  Mr. 
•Moreau.  "  You  forget  that  they  are  lost.  Allow  me  to  say,  Mr. 
Hammond,  that  other  men  are  as  careless  as  Mr.  Sancroft !" 

"  May  I  ask,  Mr.  Moreau,  from  whom  you  gained  the  informatioi/ 
of  my  negligence  and  consequent  loss  ?"  said  Mr.  Hammond,  coolly. 

Sancroft  detected  the  transient,  intense  gleam  of  satisfaction 
in  the  lawyer's  eye  at  this  outrageous  blunder  of  the  officious 
confederate.  For  himself,  he  was  livid  with  rage,  and  his  glower- 
ing looks  awoke  Moreau  to  a  sense  of  his  indiscretion.  In  fright 
and  haste,  he  had  no  thought  except  to  mend  one  falsehood  by 
another. 

"  I  was  under  that  impression,"  he  stammered.  "  Indeed,  I  am 
sure  that  I  have  heard  some  such  thing.  Oh  1  I  remember  1  It 
was  my  uncle,  Colonel  Rashleigh,  who  signified  as  much  to  me." 

"  That  is  remarkable,  since  Colonel  Rashleigh  never  had  an) 
intimation  to  that  effect  from  me,"  returned  Mr.  Hammond,  verj 
gravely.  "  How  he  could  have  conceived  of  such  an  occurrence 
is  inexplicable." 

"  It  was  some  one  of  the  family,  if  it  was  not  he."  Moreau 
stumbled  on  worse  than  ever,  for  Bancroft's  iron  heel  was  upon 
his  foot  under  the  table,  and  he  was  too  blind  with  folly  and 
alarm  fo  comprehend  its  injunction  to  silence. 

' '  If  not  lost,  then,  Mr.  Hammond,"  Sancroft  interposed  between 
the  unequally-matched  opponents,  "will  you  have  the  goodness 
to  bring  them  forward  ?v 

"  These  are  exact  copies — ae  I  have  already  sai  i,  sir  " 


NEMESIS.  389 

"  I  have  only  yoor  word  for  that !" 

"  And  I  only  your  father's  for  the  authenticity  of  the  docu 
aaents  with  which  he  furnished  nie.  Keep  your  temper,  Mr.  Ban- 
croft. It  is  not  very  easy  to  provoke  me  to  a  quarry  when 
there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  flying  into  a  passion,  if  I  do  '  etorm 
at  the  cows  and  negroes '  when  my  corn-field  is  invaded." 

Morcau's  lips  took  a  bluish  tint,  and  his  associate  turned 
scarlet. 

"  What  relevance  has  that  to  this  subject  ?"  he  inquired,  in  a 
bullying  tone,  to  hide  his  trepidation. 

"  That  remains  to  be  proved.  To  cut  short  digressions — what 
does  your  father  propose  to  do  in  his  unpleasant  dilemma,  Mr. 
Bancroft  ?  The  creditors  of  Colonel  Rashleigh,  from  whom  I 
have  received  duplicate  bills,  are  ready  to  attest  upon  oath  that 
these  are  literal  transcripts  of  those  formerly  sent  to  Mr.  Bancroft. 
Colonel  Rashleigh  will  testify  that  Mr.  Bancroft  assured  me  in  his 
presence  that  his  formal  accounts  were  prepared  with  the  utmost 
accuracy  from  those  which  he  received.  How  are  the  palpable 
discrepancies  in  the  two  sets  of  papers  to  be  reconciled  ?  Mr. 
Moreau  alleges — upon  what  grounds  he  has  not  yet  stated  dis- 
tinctly— that  I  have  lost  the  documents  drawn  up  by  your  father. 
Granting  this  to  be  true,  I  flatter  myself  that  my  copies  will  go 
as  far,  upon  oath  of  their  correctness,  as  those  of  Mr.  Bancroft, 
Senior,  especially  when  mine  are  supported  by  copious  memoranda, 
made  on  the  night  of  the  transfer,  under  Colonel  Rashleigh's  eyes. 
Nevertheless,  I  would  advise,  to  avoid  this  complicated  and  deli- 
sate  view  of  the  matter,  that  he  take  his  stand  upon  what  /  call 
the  original  documents.  If  they  are  lost,  they  may  be  traced  ; 
if  mislaid,  a  careful  search  must  bring  them  to  light.  If  I  wero 
in  his  place,  I  would  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  discover  manu- 
scripts so  important.  The  loss  of  a  small  bit  of  written  paper  w 
oftentimes  a  fruitful  source  of  great  evils,  Mr.  Moreau." 

Ffe  wheeled  his  chair  so  as  to   confront  the   conscious   thief. 


?90  N  E  M  E  8  I  b  . 

whose  grimace,  in  attempting  an  easy  smile,  was  amusing,  yet 
pitiable. 

"  S-s-so  I   suppoo-se  I"  lie  said,  shiveringly, 

"  You  feel  the  draught  from  that  window,  Mr.  Moreau.  I  will 
close  it.  Draughts  are  inconvenient  things,  particularly  wheie 
there  are  loose  papers  about.  And  speaking  of  loose  papers, 
recalls  to  me  an  incident  in  the  legal  practice  of  a  friend  of  mine, 
that  may  interest  you,  gentlemen.  My  friend,  Thompson,  had  in 
his  possession  and  under  examination,  certain  documents  which,  ii 
made  public,  would  have  seriously  affected  the  reputation  of  a 
man  who  stood  well  in  the  community.  This  man,  whom  we 
will  call  Jones,  consulted  with  his  nephew  and  a  comrade  of  his 
Smith — if  you  please  to  style  him — as  to  ways  and  means  for  pur 
loining  said  papers.  This  strategem  was  agreed  upon  :  at  a 
given  time,  Smith,  as  a  disinterested  visitor  to  Thompson,  entered 
his  office  and  contrived  a  pretext  to  finger  his  papers.  The 
younger  Jones  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  carry  out  hi? 
scheme  in  person — therefore,  he  offered  a  bribe  of  considerable 
amonnt  to  a  trifling  fellow,  who  was  skulking  along  the  road — 
sucb  a  worthless  chap  as  Bully  Bob,  Mr.  Moreau,  who  assaulted 
your  respected  uncle,  last  summer.  He  bribed  this  fellow — as  I 
was  saying,  to  pull  down  a  panel  of  the  fence  that  surrounded 
Thompson's  wheat  field,  and  drive  in  upon  the  choice  spring  grain 
H  herd  of  cattle  from  a  neighboring  pasture.  It  was  a  cunning 
thing,  for,  you  see,  the  agent  was  irot  apt  to  tell  of  his  own  mis- 
deeds. The  trick  succeeded  to  a  charm.  Out  rushed  Thompson, 
in  a  fury — very  much  as  I  did,  when  a  similar  accident  happened- to 
my  corn  one  day,  when  you  were  by,  Mr.  Moreau.  It  was  a  very 
ludicrous  scene,  I  can  assure  you,  Mr.  Sancroft.  Out  rushed  Thomp- 
son, then,  and  Smith  quietly  secured  the  desired  documents,  left 
doors  and  windows  open,  and  followed  Thompson  so  quickly,  h« 
ti^'d  riot  observe  that  he  had  not  accompanied  him.  The  fielc 
was  cleared  ;  Si'iith  offered  hip  congratulations  and  do] 


NEMESIS.  391 

»nu  Rjompson,  returning  to  his  office,  found  everything  pell-mell; 
papers  cutting  all  manner  of  capers,  and  the  leaves  of  books  flut- 
tering like  aspens  in  the  draught.  When  the  truants  were  col- 
lected, Thompson  discovered  his  loss,  and  without  delay  went  to 
communicate  the  circumstance  to  the  owner  of  the  missing  coi 
respoudence.  He  was  not  at  home  ;  but  his  wife,  a  woman  ol 
strong,  acute  intellect,  was,  and  listened  to  his  story  with 
profound  attention.  When  it  was  through,  she  said  :  '  There  is 
a  wheel  within  a  wheel.  The  wind  is  not  the  thief.  Say  nothing 
of  this  affair,  even  to  my  husband,  at  present.  We  shall  find  out 
the  truth,  in  tune.' 

"  Thompson  obeyed  to  the  letter.  He  did  not  divulge  his  sus 
picions  to  his  own  wife  :  and,  would  you  believe  it  ?  in  less  than 
a  fortnight,  they  had  proof  of  all  they  wanted  to  know.  First, 
came  to  light  the  actor  in  removing  the  fence — quite  unex- 
pectedly— for  Thompson  had  his  eye  upon  a  different  person 
altogether.  The  next  step  was  the  evidence  of  bribery,  which  the 
culprit  offered  eagerly,  to  screen  himself,  and  then — in  the  very 
nick  of  tune,  Providence,  or  luck,  sent  along  an  unexceptionable 
witness,  who  certified  to  overhearing  part  of  a  conversation 
between  the  accomplices,  Smith  and  Jones,  as  they  rejoiced  over 
their  booty,  on  their  way  home.  In  fact,  it  made  out  the  pretti- 
est case  of  conspiracy  and  robbery  you  ever  heard  of.  How  very 
ill  you  look,  Mr.  Moreau  !  Let  me  get  something  for  you.  A 
glass  of  brandy-and-water  is  excellent  for  sudden  faintness." 

"  I  would  be  obliged  to  you.  I  do  feel  very  sick!"  murmured 
Moreau. 

"  And  I  have  been  tiring  you  with  my  stupid  yarn  I  How  rery 
Inconsiderate  1  I  will  step  into  the  house  and  be  back  directly." 

He  left  the  office,  and  Moreau  stared  helplessly  at  his  accom- 
plice. "  Sancroft,  we  are  ruined  I" 

"  And  you  have  only  your  meddling  stupidity  to  thank  for  it!*1 
was  the  gloomy  rejoinder 


392  NEMESIS. 

"But  can  you  do  nothing?"  entreated  Morean,  who  had  a 
childish  confidence  in  his  companion's  talents  for  suoterfuge. 

"  Of  course  I  can.  Nobody  but  a  cowardly  blockhead  givp9 
up  a  battle  before  it  is  fought.  With  all  his  cock-and-bull  story , 
I  don't  believe  he  can  prove  the  half  of  what  he  says.  At  all 
events,  I  will  let  him  try  it.  Two  can  play  at  that  game." 

Accordingly,  while  Mr.  Moreau  sipped,  and  finally  swallowed 
the  entire  contents  of  the  tumbler  Mr.  Hammond  had  mixed  to 
relieve  his  faintness,  Mr.  Bancroft  stated  his  intention,  on  the 
part  of  his  father,  to  consider  further  the  matter  in  hand,  and  to 
inform  him  of  their  conclusion  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  ten 
days.  It  was  Jiis  own  conviction  that  his  father  would  insist  upon 
bringing  the  case  into  court.  It  was  a  novel  one,  and  would 
involve  a  vast  deal  of  expense  and  trouble,  but  these  were  not  to 
be  thought  of  a  moment,  in  comparison  with  the  good  name  of  a 
man  who  was  now,  in  his  old  age,  arraigned  for  the  first  time  for 
fraud.  He  asked  for  one  favor  only  at  the  hands  of  his  accuser — 
that  the  affair  should  be  kept  as  quiet  as  possible,  until  publica- 
tion was  made  necessary,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  requisite  legal 
proceedings. 

Mr.  Hammond  attended  them  to  the  door,  and  as  Moreau  was 
passing  out  last,  still  pale  and  scared,  the  lawyer  checked  him 
with — "  A  word  with  you,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Moreau  !  Mr. 
Bancroft  will  excuse  us  for  a  moment." 

Reluctant  though  Sancroft  was  to  leave  his  indiscreet  dctim  in 
the  power  of  such  a  master  of  the  arts  of  cross-examination  and 
spying  out  a  guilty  secret — and  loath  as  Moreau  looked  and  felt 
to  endure  the  ordeal,  neither  had  any  objection  ready.  While 
Sancroft  sullenly  untied  his  horse  and  pretended  to  busy  himself 
with  tightening  the  girth  and  rebuckling  the  bridle,  Mr.  Ham- 
mond withdrew  the  downcast  culprit  into  the  oflbe,  and  instead 
of  charging  home  his  offence  upon  him,  as  he  expected,  accosted 
him  mildly. 


H  E  M  E  8  I  8  .  393 

M  To  you,  Mr.  Moreau,  I  would  offer  a  little  unprofessional 
advice.  Whether  or  not  the  Messrs.  Bancroft  will  push  matters 
to  extremity,  and  thereby  blast  their  reputations  irretrievably,  ] 
cannot  say.  My  surmise  is  that  they  wijl  make  the  experiment 
I  do  not  inquire  if  you  are  implicated  in  any  manner  in  this 
attempted  fraud  " 

"  I  never  knew  a  word  of  it  until  after  the  mischief  was  done!" 
,  was  Moreau's  vehement  asseveration. 

"  I  prefer  that  you  should  not  answer  me  quite  yet,  if  you 
please.  This  caution  is  meant  kindly,  for  you  are  laboring  under 
excitement  and  might  make  imprudent  admissions.  I  was  about 
to  remark  that  although  probable,  it  is  not  a  certainty,  that 
should  the  case  be  tried,  your  name  will  be  introduced.  Your 
uncle  has  no  idea  that  you  have  any  knowledge  of  the  fraud  or 
its  peculiar  attendant  circumstances.  You  cannot  mistake  my 
weaning.  Nor  is  it  expedient  that  he  should  be  informed  of  any 
of  these  unpleasant  circumstances  until  our  plans  are  more  nearly 
matured.  Therefore,  your  wisest  course  is  to  remain  silent  and 
passive.  Should  the  worst  come,  it  will  still  appear  that  mow 
confidants  would  only  have  accelerated  exposure." 

"  But  Mrs.  Rasbleigh  1 — my  uncle's  wife  !  I  thought  you  said 
that  she  knew  everything  1" 

"  Mr.  Moreau  !  Mr.  Moreau  !  your  are  forgetting  my  warn- 
Mig!  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  name  has  not  been  mentioned  in  the  whole 
conversation." 

"  You  meant  her  !  you  know  you  did  1  Where's  the  use  of 
denying  it  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Hammond  1  I  am  the  most  miserable  man 
alive  !  I  wish  I  had  blown  my  brains  out,  twelve  months  ago. 
I  have  been  living  longer  than  that  with  a  sword  hanging  ovef 
my  head.  I  wish  it  would  fall  and  cut  me  in  two—  for  then 
would  be  an  end  of  it  !" 

He  dropped  his  head  on  the  back  of  a  chair  and  sobbed  out 
right  ii>  -lespair. 

/  IT* 


S94  NEMESIS. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Mr.  Moreau  !  upon  my  word  1  am  I* 
eaid  the  lawyer,  honestly,  while  he  despised  the  wretched  dupe  ot 
his  own  passions  and  another's  cunning.  You  have  listened 
too  credulously  to  evil  counsellors  ;  have  obeyed  them  too  faith- 
fully." 

"  How  could  I  help  it  ?  They  hare  me  sompletely  in  their 
power— just  as  much  as  if  1  were  chained  hand  and  foot." 

"  I  would  break  the  chains  and  take  the  consequences,  let  them 
be  ever  so  severe.  You  may  wonder  at  hearing  such  a  sentiment 
from  one  of  my  profession,  but  I  am  daily  becoming  more  tho- 
roughly convinced  that  an  honest  course  is  the  only  one  that  can 
be  truly  termed  politic." 

"  Yet  you  advise  me  against  it !" 

"  Not  I !.  I  have  not  recommended  equivocation,  only  reserve 
I  am  detaining  you,  and  I  see  that  Mr.  Sancroft  is  growing 
impatient.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  the  liberty  I  have  taken.  If 
I  could  aid  you  in  this  uncomfortable  affair  I  would  do  so  ;  but 
I  can  see  no  better  plan  of  action  for  you  to  adopt  than  a  prudent 
silence." 

•  "  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?"  demanded  Saucroft^peremptorily, 
as  they  put  their  horses  in  motion. 

"  What  you  are  eternally  telling  me  to  learn — to  hold  my 
tongue  !"  answered  the  other  crossly,  with  very  similar  feelings  to 
those  we  may  imagine  a  worm  to  experience  when  he  turns  under 
*he  careless  or  wanton  foot. 

"  Was  that  all  ?" 

"  He  said  th'at  even  if  you  and  your  father  saw  fit  to  stand  the 
suit,  and  meet  the  disgrace  that  would  attend  it,  I  had  better  keep 
rtill." 

"Which  means  that  your  uncle  prefers  not  to  damage  his 
nephew's  reputation  if  he  can  ruin  us  without  !  Yery  natural  1 
but  we  will  see  whether  that  is  practicable.  However,  you  may 
is  well  follow  his  advice  for  some  time  to  come.  If  there  is  an/ 


N  E  M  E  8  I  B  .  39& 

sense  in  ihf»  maxim  about  the  law's  delays,  I  am  determined  that 
Bitmmond  snail  have  the  fiill  benefit  of  the  same.  Don't  hang 
youroeiif  yet  awhile  !  Who  bocws  what  a  couple  of  mo'uths  ma} 
bn%  torth  V 


696  H  E  M  E  8  I  S 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

KATHERINE  kept  up  her  horseback  rides  throughout  the  autunr 
—partly  to  please  her  father,  partly  because  she  experienced  a 
;ruel  pleasure  hi  enduring  the  memories  called  back  by  these 
lonely  excursions.  Omar  seemed  to  miss  his  mate  as  he  followed, 
without  direction  from  the  rein,  the  well-known  bridle-paths  wind- 
ing in  and  about  the  forests  ;  but  his  mistress  never  spoke  her 
regret  at  the  substitution  of  bulky  Thomas  for  her  summer's 
escort.  The  laborer  in  wayside  fields,  and  the  frequent  traveller 
along  those  roads,  came  to  know  and  to  watch  for  her  appearance 
on  every  moderately  fine  day,  always  riding  swiftly  while  in  the 
highway  ;  sitting  so  straight  and  firm  in  her  saddle,  that  it  would 
hare  been  a  keen  vision  indeed  that  detected  the  increasing  slen- 
derness  of  her  figure — her  eye  so  bright  and  her  mouth  so  proud, 
that  none  remarked  the  hollowing  and  blanching  cheek. 

Tramp  I  tramp  !  tramp  !  over  the  gravelly  road  and  the 
turfy  by-way  ;  through  sand  and  creek  and  mire  ;  through  dead 
leaves  everywhere  ! — for  the  farewell  sigh  of  summer  had  died 
away  among  the  hills  long  ago.  Tramp  !  tramp  1  tramp  !  while 
the  swift  pulses  rioted  in  her  wrists,  and  her  heart  beat  like  a 
caged  bird  against  its  bars,  and  there  was  ever  that  straining-, 
forward  gaze — seeking  for  what  or  whom  ? 

One  gusty,  cloudy  afternoon,  she  dismounted,  as  she  had  often 
done  before,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  back  of  the  church,  and  gather- 
ing her  train  in  her  hands,  ascended  to  the  grave  that  was  no-"  to 
her  a  shrine.  At  her  last  visit,  two  flay?  pr^iouft  +0  thy  »h& 


NEMESIS.  307 

had  been  troubled  by  the  ragged,  neglected  look  of  so  ranch  of  the 
tiirf  as  was  visible,  the  inclosure  being  filled  with  fallen  leaves  tf 
a  level  with  the  top  of  the  mound.  She  had  tried  the  little  gate 
aud  found  the  lock  firm,  and  her  attempt  to  insert  her  arm 
between  the  palings  to  clear  away  leaves  or  grass  was  alike  futile. 
To-day  there  were  no  such  offences  to  sight  and  feeling.  The 
turf  had  been  clipped  and  cleaned  ;  the  dead  matter  all  removed 
to  a  distance  from  the  inclosure  ;  even  the  circular  area  appeared 
to  ha?e  been  swept.  It  was,  without  doubt,  done  by  the  old 
housekeeper's  orders.  Her  absent  master's  wishes  were  her  law  an 
absolutely  as  when  he  reigned  in  person  at  Ben  Lomond. 

Katherine  leaned  upon  the  top  of  the  fence,  and  read  again 
the  inscription  : 


"MARK    HALE, 

OBIT.  17Y9. 

.fiTAT.    27. 

'  There  remaineth  therefore  a  rest  for  the  people  of  Go<L" 


He  had  died  in  poverty  and  in  prison  !  Were  his  last  moments 
embittered  by  doubts  of  the  fidelity  of  his  distant  friends  ?  That 
reflection  would  add  poignancy  to  any  grjef.  She  wished^she  had 
known  this  humble  favorite  ;  this  nobleman  in  a  peasant's  abode 
and  garb.  Perhaps,  if  he  had  lived,  her  present  situation  would 
have  been  different,  since  his  death  and  its  accompanying  circum- 
tance*  had  wrought  such  alterations  in  Malcolm's  character  and 
conduct.  How  she  would  have  been  affected  she  did  not  surmise  ; 
she  only  wondered  vaguely  if  this  untimely  end  of  one  whom  she 
had  never  seen,  had  not  exerted  some  important  influence  upou 
her  destiny. 

A  cold  blast  shook  down  the  dry  leaves  in  shower?,  and  somo 
thing  white  fluttered  around  the  corner  of  the  pair  _  r  feet 


898  NEMESIS. 

She  picke  it  up.  It  was  a  handkerchief,  sheer  and  fine,  and 
marked  in  the  centre — "  Margaret  E.  Rashleigh  I"  Could  she 
have  taken  this  article  of  her  mother's  property  by  mistake  and 
lost  it  here  ?  It  was  improbable,  yet  she  could  not  disprove  the 
supposition.  She  was  still  inspecting  the  cambric,  as  if  it  could 
account  for  its  mysterious  appearance,  when  Thomas,  having 
secured  the  horses  among  the  trees  below,  came  up  the  hill. 
Regardless  of  his  young  mistress'  surprised,  and  somewhat  offended 
look,  at  this  intrusion  upon  her  privacy,  he  commenced  a  diligent 
search  jjrithin  and  around  the  inclosure  ;  turning  over  sticks  and 
dry  leaves,  and  staring  up  into  the  naked  branches  of  neighboring 
trees.  I 

"  What  do  you  want,  Thomas  ?" 

"Mary"  (Mrs.  Rashleigh's  maid)  "  telled  me  yesterday,  that 
the  mistress  had  lost  a  pocket  handkerchief  hi  the  chariot  or  on 
the  road,  while  she  was  taking  her  airing,  and  I  thought  mebbe 
she  had  dropped  it  here." 

"  Here  1 — has.she  ever  been  here  ?" 

"  Many  a  tunes  ;  every  week  a'most.  She  sets  great  store 
upon  walking  in  these  woods.  Her  and  Mary  rests  here  a  bit, 
while  John  drives  round  to  the  cross-roads  and  back,  to  keep  the 
horses  from  taking  cold  standing.  She  corned  yesterday  after- 
noon to  see  how  I  had  cleaned  out  the  weeds  and  litter  in  the 
morning,  and  I  thought,  mebbe,  she'd  lost  her  handkerchief  here." 

The  return  to  his  starting-place  awoke  Katherine.  During 
this,  for  him,  lengthy  speech,  which  he  droned  out,  automaton- 
like,  she  remained  gazing  alternately  at  him  and  the  handkerchief, 
as  if  stupefied  by  what  she  heard.  Her  mother  had  made  secret 
and  frequent  pilgrimages  to  this  spot — had  tended  the  tomb  of 
the  obscure  mechanic  as  carefully  as  Malcolm  had  done  !  Could 
ehe  believe  it  ?  and,  if  so,  to  what  motive  should  she  attributu 
the  marvel  ? 

"  I  have  found  the  handkerchief  ghe  said,  with  the  recollection 


F  E  if  E  8  I  8  .  399 

tnat  she  was  listening  to  a  servant's  tale — even  more — interro- 
gating him  witli  regard  to  what  his  mistress  had  chosen  to  con- 
ceal— au  action  her  training  had  taught  her  to  regard  as  highly 
dishonorable.  "  I  will  take  it  to  Mrs.  Rashleigh  myself." 

She  preceded  him  to  the  lower  ground,  and  was  ready  to 
remount  by  the  time  he  arrived,  puffing  after  the  effort  to  keep 
up  with  her  rapid  pace.  On  gaining  the  road,  where  the  trees 
did  not  hinder  her  view  of  the  heavens,  Katherine  discovered  that 
the  clouds  hung  darker  and  lower,  and  the  more  penetrating 
humidity  of  the  air  warned  her  of  rain  close  at'  hand.  Omar 
responded  with  spirit  to  the  shake  of  the  rein  and  the  energetic- 
voice  that  urged  him  onward;  but  he  was  too  late  hi  commencing 
the  race.  The  large,  slow  drops  were  beginning  to  come  in  faster 
streams  when  the  reeking  horses  reached  home. 

"  My  child,  we  had  become  exceedingly  uneasy  on  youi 
account,"  said  the  Colonel,  standing  upon  the  porch-steps — his 
tower  of  observation  for  the  past  half-hour.  "  I  should  have  been 
displeased  if  the  shower  had  wetted  you.  You  should  observe  the 
weather  more  attentively  when  abroad." 

"  You  are  very  warm,"  remarked  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

"  Because  I  rode  so  fast,  mamma.  I  have  been  in  the  woods, 
papa.  That  was  the  cause  of  my  not  perceiving  how  threatening 
the  sky  had  grown  since  I  went  out." 

She  threw  off  her  hat,  and  drew  out  &  handkerchief  to  wipe 
her  forehead.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  recognized  it  at  a  glance,  and 
Katherine,  chancing  also  to  look  at  what  she  held,  grew  crimson 
with  embarrassment. 

"  It  is  not  safe  for  you  to  stand  here,"  said  her  mother.    "  The 
wind  is  too  fresh.     You  had  better  go  upstairs  and  lay  off  your 
•  habit,  and  be  careful  not  to  get  cool  too  suddenly." 

She  extended  her  hand  for  the  handkerchief,  which  Katherine 
resipit-l  as  -il'-ntly. 

.va.-  HOT  so  oiioiiont  to  the  word  of  command.     Tliero  wat 


400  NEMESIS. 

no  fire  in  her  chamber,  and,  after  getting  rid  of  the  damp,  heavj 
ridiijg-drees,  she  stood — with  bare  shoulders  and  arms,  as  she  had 
afterward  reason  to  recollect — leaning  against  the  window-casing 
and  watching  the  drifting  sheets  of  rain  that  now  veiled  the 
landscape  and  beat  upon  the  panes,  absorbed  in  perplexing 
thought,  until  her  maid  rapped  for  admittance. 

Colonel  Rashleigh  enjoyed  the  wet  night.  He  had  a  fire  built 
in  the  library,  which  was  insufferable  to  every  one  else,  and 
basked,  or  roasted  himself  in  its  blaze,  with  apparent  and  audible 
expression  of  the  home-comfort  he  derived  from  the  operation. 
Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  not  well,  and  did  not  appear  below  after 
supper  ;  Mrs.  Holt  was  driven  out  by  the  heat,  and  Katharine 
shunned  the  apartment  for  the  same  reason.  The  family  sitting- 
room  was  without  a  fire-place,  and  the  great  parlor  was  cold  and 
dark.  She  could  not  bear  the  solitude  of  her  chamber  and  the 
sobbing  echoes  that  called  to  her  in  the  rain  without.  In  her 
purposeless  wanderings  through  the  passages  and  over  the  stairs, 
she  happened  upon  the  housekeeper's  room. 

Miss  Nancy  Wilkinson  was  tall,  spare  and  angular  ;  a  trifle 
too  sharp  upon  the  servants,  and  with  some  old-maidish  peculiari- 
ties of  behavior  and  ideas,  but  was,  withal,  a  very  excellent 
manager,  cook  and  woman.  Her  place  suited  her.  as  well  as  she 
suited  her  employers;  only,  she  had  been  used  to  more  familiarity 
•" — was  treated  more  as  a  companion  among  those  who  knew  her 
hvstory  and  connections,  which  were  with  one  of  the  best  families 
in  the  county.  Her  grandfather  was  a  man  of  distinction  in  his 
neighborhood  and  time,  and  had  owned  more  acres  than  his 
descendant  did  shillings.  But  his  children  spent  faster  than  he 
had  gathered,  and  found  the  remembrance  of  past  grandeur  ao 
insufficient  provision  for  present  needs.  Hence,  the  grand 
daughter's  occupation. 

Unmolested  by  haunting  spectres  of  the  different  things  which 
might  have  been,  she  now  sat  bolt-upright  at  a  deal  table,  sleevei 


..       KEME8I8.  401 

pinned  up  to  her  shoulders,  stoning  raisins.  Citron,  spices  and 
sugar  were  ranged  before  her,  waiting  for  their  share  of  atten- 
tion. She  looked  benignly  through  her  spectacles  at  Katherine'a 
approach,  for  Miss  Barbara  had  reported  correctly  respecting  he* 
opinion  of  the  "  English er's  "  daughter. 

"  What  delicious  compound  are  you  at  work  upon  to-night, 
Miss  Nancy  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  A  real  English  plum-pudding,  honey.  Your  ma  has  told  me 
exactly  how  to  make  it,  as  your  pa  loves  it ;  and  as  to-morrow  ia 
his  birthday,  we  are  going  to  ha.ve  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding." 

"  Good  1  So  to-morrow  is  his  birthday  ?  I  am  ashamed  of 
myself  for  having  forgotten  it.  I  am  in  a  busy  humor,  Misa 
Nancy.  Please  let  me  help  you.  Will  you  trust  me  to  shred 
this  citron  ?  I  used  to  sit,  for  hours  at  a  time,  in  our  house- 
keeper's room  in  England,  and  she  taught  me  a  smattering  of  all 
sorts  of  cookery." 

"  Why  didn't  she  cross  the  seas  with  you  T 

"Her  children  were  married  and  settled,  and  begged  her  to 
live  among  them,  and  as  she  was  getting  old,  she  consented,  and 
gave  up  her  profession." 

A  sigh  stirred  the  starched  folds  of  Miss  Nancy's  neckerchief. 

"  Married  women — widows  I  mean — don't  often  take  up  that 
line  of  life  in  this  country  Indeed,  there  are  not  many  regular 
housekeepers  about  here.  I  don't  know  of  but  two  others  beside 
me,  in  ten  miles  round.  Miss  Polly  Saunders,  she  lives  at  Mr. 
Armistead's,  for  Mrs.  Annistead  is  in  poor  health,  and  Barbary 
Brook  has  kept  house  at  Ben  Lomond  for  nigh  upon  forty  years, 
I  reckon.  You  mightn't  think  it,  but  she  has  learnt  me  a  heap 
of  things,  for  I  am  younger  than  Barbary  by  a  good  deal." 

"  She  must  be  greatly  attached  to  the  family,  to  remain  so 
long  in  one  place,"  returned  Katherine,  mincing  the  translucent 
dips  of  sweetmeat. 

'•'  You  niny  well  say  that  !     She  has  been  a  second  mother  t« 


402  NEMESIS. 

them  children.  ^Malcolm — Mr.  Argyle,  I  s'pose  I  ought  lo  eaE 
him,  but  I  can't  remember  that  he  isn't  a  boy,  any  longer — he 
dou't  know  any  difference  between  her  and  his  real  mother,  who 
died  when  he  was  a  child.  She  was  a  beautiful  woman.  Ho 
and  Mrs.  Moreau  both  look  like  her — he  most,  though,  for  she 
had  s,uch  a  lovely  expression — such  a  sweet  smile  !  Yes  !  no 
loves  Barbary  mightily,  and  is  a  great  comfort  to  her  in  her  old 
age."  Another  sigh.  "  To  be  sure,"  she  resumed,  "  I  helped  to 
raise  a  family  of  children  ;  but  their  mother  is  living,  and  that 
makes  a  difference.  Then,  again,  they're  not  the  same  sort  as 
Mr.  Argyle.  People  can't  change  their  naters,  and  all  hearts  arc 
not  warm  alike.  If  they  were,  Marcia  Selden  wouldn't  neve 
have  jilted  Malcolm  Argyle." 

"  Were  you  living  at  Mr.  Selden's  then  ?" 

"  I  was,  and  a  high  time  they  had  about  it.  Marcia  was  loa,th 
to  give  him  up,  but  her  mother  thought  'twas  best/  and  maybe 
'twas  ;  but  it's  my  notion,  that  a  girl  ought  to  think  twice  before 
she  throws  away  as  much  sure-enough  love  as  Malcolm  had  foi 
her.  Dear  me  I  I  recollect  as  well  as  if  it  was  yesterday,  my 
meeting  the  poor  fellow  in  the  passage,  after  he  got  his  discard. 
His  face  had  no  more  color  in  it  than  there  is  in  a  table-cloth, 
and  he  shook  all  over,  in  a  kind  of  ague  ;  but  for  all  that,  his 
eyes  were,  for  all  the  world,  like  live  coals — terrible  to  see  I  1 
was  real  sorry  for  him,  but  I  was  too  afraid  of  his  looks  to  say  » 
word.  I'd  as  soon  have  taken  hold  of  a  lion's  paw  as  offer  t< 
shake  hands  with  him.  He's  suffered  a  great  deal  and  a  long 
time  !" 

The  innocently  artful  spinster  had  a  double  object  in  dwelling 
upon  this  theme  ;  one  being  to  determine  for  herself  the  truth  of 
certain  reports  that  had  reached  her  ears  ;  hints  of  a  second  suit 
and  another,  but  more  honorable  rejection  of  her  hero  ;  the  other, 
•  to  awaken  an  interest  for  him  in  Katherine's  tender  hoart,  if  it 
had  never  moved  for  him  before. 


NEMESIS.  408 

There  was  a  profound  silence.  The  curling  shreds  of  citron  M! 
regularly  into  the  dish,  until  the  last  piece  was  cut,  and  Katheriae 
asked  what  she  could  do  next. 

"  The  currants  are  to  be  washed,  but  it  is  dirty  work,  ai;<!  ] 
can't  let  you  do  it." 

"  I  can  weigh  your  sugar  and  flour.  How  much  of  each  f 
said  Katherine,  catching  up  the  scales. 

Miss  Nancy  gave  the  direction  required,  and,  convinced  that  her 
shafts  had  not  hit  the  mark,  took  a  nearer  stand  and  more  direct  aim. 

"  Whatever  sent  Mr.  Argyle  out  West  or  South,  or  whereve/ 
'tis  he's  gone — do  you  know,  Miss  Katherine  ?" 

"  The  desire  to  travel,  I  imagine." 

"  Barbary  is  mightily  cut  up  about  it.  She  hoped  to  have 
him  near  her  always,  and  now,  she  thinks  there  is  no  telling 
whether  he'll  ever  settle  down  again.  I  heard  the  other  day,  he 
had  written  home  that  he  had  bought,  or  was  thinking  of  buying, 
a  plantation  out  there.  That's  the  way  with  most  men  that  go 
South.  They  never  come  back.  'Twill  be  a  hard  thing  for 
Barbary  to  leave  the  old  place  at  her  age  !" 

Crash  I  came  down  the  scales  upon  the  table,  and  the  two 
half-pound  weights  dashed  into  the  bowl  of  eggs,  breaking  and 
spattering  them  in  all  directions.  Without  apology  for  her  care- 
lessness, or  regret  at  its  consequences,  Katherine  left  the  house- 
keeper to  bemoan  the  catastrophe  by  herself. 

Miss  Rashleigh's  maid  was  not  rung  up  to  her  room,  that  night, 
and  after  waiting  until  a  late  hour,  went  of  her  own  accord  to 
the  door,  and  listened.  All  was  still,  and  her  tap,  repeated 
several  tunes,  received  no  reply.  She  tried  the  door.  It  was  not 
fast  and  she  pushed  it  open  softly.  Katherine  had  fallen  asleep 
in  her  chair,  by  the  side  of  the  hearth  where  the  fire  had  burned 
out  to  ashes.  She  was  in  her  night-robe,  and  between  her  hands 
was  crushed  a  little  heap  of  papers — seemingly  notes.  Bfei 
was  MiiL1  and  her  breathing  short. 


404  NEMESIS- 

"She  will  ketch  her  death  of  cold!'  muttered  .he  woman. 
"  Miss  Katherine  !" 

"  What  ?  Lucy  !  is  it  you  ?"  said  Katherine,  in  nervous  con- 
fusion. "  I  was  nearly  asleep  1" 

She  gathered  up  the  papers  and  thrust  them  hastily  into  a 
drawer,  which  she  locked. 

•    "  How  fearfully  cold  it  is  !"  she  added,  shaking  in  every  limb, 
while  her  lips  and  finger-tips  were  of  a  greyish  purple. 

"  Let  me  rub  your  feet,  or  get  a  hot  brick  for  them  !"  begged 
ihe  uneasy  servant. 

"  No,  thank  you  !  I  will  get  into  bed.  Xow,  bury  me  in  the 
blankets  !  I  am  frozen  through  and  through  !" 

These  were  the  last  coherent  words  she  uttered  for  many  daya. 
The  next  morning,  she  was  in  a  high  fever  and  delirium — just  the 
type  of  illness  that  was  likely  to  seize  upon  one  of  her  physical 
and  mental  temperament.  The  two  physicians,  summoned  by  the 
Colonel,  looked  grave  over  her,  and  evaded  inquiries  as  to  the 
likelihood  of  her  recovery  ;  and  for  miles  around,  the  story  went 
like  wildfire,  that  she  was  already  given  over  by  them  both. 

Yet,  such  was  Miss  Barbara's  seclusion  and  indifference  to 
current  events,  that  the  news  was  a  couple  of  days  old,  before 
she  heard  it.  It  reached  her  at  night-fall,  and  an  hour  after 
sunrise  on  the  succeeding  day,  she  presented  herself  at  Briarwood, 
and  asked  to  see  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

She  is  in  Miss  Rashleigh's  room,  and  cannot  see  company  !w 
replied  Thomas,  stoutly. 

"  It's  likely  I'm  come  as  company — isn't  it  ?"  said  Miss  Bar- 
bara. "I  look  like  a  fashionable  visitor — don't  If  I'll  wait 
here  in  .the  sittin'  room  for  three  minutes  and  a  half,  and  jist  you 
step  upstairs,  on  your  tiptoes — mind  you  !  and  tell  Mrs.  Rush- 
leigh  there's  a  person  here  Irishes  to  st-e  her." 

The  specified  time  was  exceeded  by  several  minute*,  wheu 
Mrs.  RashJeigh  jipp^ired  She  had  passed  the  night  iu  her 


NEMESIS.  405 

daughter's  chamber,  aud  looked  worn  down  with  sleeplessness 
and  anxiety.  She  stopped  short  on  perceiving  her  visitor,  but 
without  waiting  to  see  whether  her  surprise  were  pleasant  or 
disagreeable,  Miss  Barbara  said,  straightly  aud  squarely  : 

"  I're  heard  that  your  daughter  is  sick,  and  come  to  help 
nnrse  her,  if  you'll  let  me.  There's  no  hired  nurses  round  here, 
and  you  ain't  overly  strong." 

This  was  only  the  second  sight  she  had  had  of  the  "  proud 
English  lady,"  and  the  former  was  restricted  to  a  glimpse  at  the 
church,  on  the  day  of  Mr.  Laidley's  preaching  there.  She  had, 
however,  heard  such  tales  of  her  reserve  and  haughtiness, 
that  she  was  immeasurably  astonished  when  Mrs.  Rashleigh  held 
out  her  hand,  with  a  smile  of  magical  beauty,  and  said  in  a  voice 
tremulous  with  emotion — "  I  thank  you  1  If  it  will  nut  be  an 
imposition  upon  your  goodness,  I  accept  your  offer — gratefully  I 
When  can  you  come  ?" 

"  In  two  minutes  !  I'll  jist  tell  the  man  who  brought  me  over. 
lot  to  wait." 

She  trotted  to  the  front  door,  and  was  back  directly,  to  follow 
Mrs.  Rashleigh  up  stairs. 

"  How  is**she  this  morniu'  ?"  she  asked,  at  the  top  of  the  steps 

"  No  better  1"     The  lady  spoke  dejectedly. 

"  That's  because  the  fever  hasn't  run  its  course.  There's  no 
reason  in  gettin'  uneasy  so  soon  as  this." 

Perhaps  she  altered  her  mind,  when  she  stood  by  the  sick  girl, 
aud  beheld  the  preternaturally  bright  eye  ;  the  crimson  cheek  ; 
the  tossings  from  side  to  side  on  the  heated  couch,  aud  heard  the 
strained,  hurried  accents,  that  so  pierced  the  heart  of  loving 
watchers — the  utterances  of  the  fever  demon  through  lips  that 
were  never  before  parted  by  such  tones.  Katherine  talked  inces- 
gantly,  foolishly,  wildly — prattled  as  a  child  might  have  done  to 
\ier  dog,  her  bird,  her  horse.  She  often  laughed — a  hollow,  sense- 
less peal ;  sometimes — and  that  was  hardest  of  all  to  bear — she 


408  NEMESIS. 

sa-ng,  still  in  that  false,  strange  voice,  songs  that  she  used  to  warble 
from  room  to  room,  with  the  wildwood  sweetness  of  her  own  linnet. 

"  Poor  tiling  !  poor  thing  !"  said  Miss  Barbara,  when  she  heard 
this. 

She  had  not  spoken  a  word  of  compassion  before.  Her  look 
und  bearing  had  been  precisely  those  of  a  professional  nurse,  who 
was  conscientious  in  her  resolve  to  deserve  her  wages.  She  had 
come  hither  at  the  bidding  of  duty  ;  but  in  her  heart,  there  was 
no  love  and  little  charity  for  the  woman  who  had  ruthlessly 
wrecked  her  "  boy's  "  happiness. 

Distant  and  taciturn  as  was  the  mother,  Miss  Barbara  was 
more  attracted  toward  her  than  to  the  daughter.  The  concord 
between  the  stately  lady  and  the  unpolished  housekeeper  was  per- 
fect from  the  moment  of  their  meeting.  Hitherto,  Mrs.  Rashleigh 
had  not  left  Katherine's  sick-bed.  This  morning,  she  retired  to  her 
own  chamber,  and  slept  for  two  hours,  Miss  Barbara  assuming  the 
post  of  custodian  in  the  patient's  room.  They  attended  her  jointly, 
and  by  turns,  never  crossing  each  other  in  a  single  opinion,  and 
conforming  readily  to  one  another's  ways.  Mrs.  Holt,  with  every 
disposition  to  make  herself  useful,  and  suffering  acute  anxiety  on 
her  pupil's  account,  was  a  very  tyro  in  nursing.  Where  book- 
learning  could  avail  nothing,  she  was  at  sea,  and  Mrs.  Rashleigh 
was  so  thoroughly  aware  of  this  that  she  would  not  have  allowed 
her  to  administer  the  simplest  medicine  to  her  child.  Therefore, 
the  poor  lady  read  consolatory  works  aloud  to  Colonel  Rashleigh, 
when  he  was  not  too  perturbed  to  listen,  and  to  herself,  when  she 
had  no  auditor,  and  offered  up  fervent  prayers  from  her  unworldly 
heart,  for  the  restoration  of  the  drooping  flower  of  the  household. 

Mrs.  Moreau,  who  paid  daily  calls,  came  as  usual  on  the  day  of 
Muss  Barbara's  arrival. 

"  Will  you  see  her  ?"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  as  word  of  her  pr» 
Fence  below  was  brought  up  te-  the  sick-chamber. 

Miss  Barbara  thought  it  an  odd  request,  but  complied. 


N  E  M  K  S  I  8  .  407 

"  You  here  I"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Moreau.  "  You  are  the  last  per- 
son in  creation  I  snould  have  expected  to  see.  Did  they  send  fof 
you  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  compliments  and  she  hopes  Mrs.  Moreau  will 
excuse  her  from  coming  down,  Miss  Rashleigh  being  so  ill,"  re* 
peated  Miss  Barbara,  demurely,  without  sitting  down. 

Mrs.  Moreau  changed  her  tone.  "  Nonsense,  Miss  Barbara  1 
Take  a  seat  and  tell  me  all  about  poor  dear  Katherine  I  We  are 
perfectly  wretched  !" 

"  Xo  need  of  that !  She's  as  likely  to  git  well  as  to  die." 

"  Do  .you  think  so  1  The  doctors .  consider  hers  a  very  critical 
».nse." 

"  They  say  so,  I  know  !" 

"  And  she  is  really  better  to-day  !  This  is  glad  news  I" 

"  She's  worse,  If  there's  any  change.  But  she's  got  to  be  woree 
yet  before  I  give  her  up." 

"  I  am  delighted  that  Mrs.  Rashleigh  has  engaged  you  aa 
nurse.  I  have  often  told  her  of  your  -kill  in  that  line,  and  I  am 
pleased  that  she  has  remembered  it  now.  You  can  be  easily 
spared  from  home,  while  Malcolm  is  away.  When  did  you  hear 
from  him  ?" 

"  Yesterday." 

"  Where  was  he  ?" 

"  In  Louisiana." 

"  How  was  he  ?" 

41  Well."     Miss  Barbara  was  growing  bitingly  short. 

41  You  will  stay  here  some  time,  I  suppose,  until  the  poor 
child's  illness  is  terminated  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  I  shall  stay  till  she  is  out  of  danger  !" 

Miss  Barbara  was  mindful,  in  all  this  interview,  of  the  fact 
that  Mr.  Moreau  was  the  next  heir,  after  Katherine,  to  his  uncle's 
estate,  and  stubbornly  set  upon  discouraging  premature  and 
unfounded  expectations. 


408    "  NEMESIS. 

"  You  have  cheered  me  wonderfully  !"  said  Eleanor.  "  I 
must  hasten  home  and  carry  the  good  tidings  to  Mr.  Moreaa. 
He  is  very  much  attached  to  his  cousin.  Is  the  poor  girl 
sensible  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Still  delirious  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  What  does  she  talk  about  ?"  Involuntarily  Eleanor  lowered 
her  voice  and  glanced  over  her  shoulder. 

An  idea  darted  into  Miss  Barbara's  head :  "  What  could 
Katheriue  tell  that  Mrs.  Moreau  had  rather  should  not  be 
revealed  ?"  And  treading  swiftly  after  it,  came  the  recollection 
that  Katherine  was  staying  at  Montrouge  when  she  rejected 
Malcolm. 

"  About  all  sorts  of  things  1"  she  replied,  reservedly. 

"  Trifles,  no  doubt.  What  a  mistaken  notion  it  is,  yet  what  u 
general  mistake,  that  people  are  apt,  in  delirium,  to  speak  of 
what  they  think  most  of  when  well !  As  if  a  diseased  mind 
could  run  in  the  same  channel  with  a  healthy  one  1" 

"No  answer  from  Miss  Barbara,  but  an  air  of  mysterious  pru- 
dence. 

"  Does  it  not  appear  absurd  to  you  ?"  urged  Mrs.  Moreau. 

"  Some  folks  thinks  one  thing,  some  another  !"  oracularly. 

"  But  Katherine  rambles  on  about  trivial  things,  you  say  ? 
Does  she  know  where  she  is,  and  who  are  with  her  ?" 

"  Sometimes  she  does — sometimes  she  doesn't." 

"  Does  she  ever  speak  of  us  ?  I  should  suppose  she  would — 
she  has  spent  so  mucn  time  at  our  house." 

"  If  she  did,  'twouldn't  be  honorable  in  me  to  tell  you.  I 
have  something  else  to  attend  to  besides  eavesdroppin'  what  she 
wouldn't  let  on,  if  she  wasn't  out  of  her  head.  Would  you  like 
to  see  Mrs.  Holt  ?  Pm  wanted  upstairs  I" 

"  "Kleauor  went  away  uncomfortable,  thus  accomplishing  part 


NEMESIS.  409 

ot  Miss.  Barbara's  design,  while,  upon  the  mind  of  the  volunteer 
nurse,  the  impression  was  fastened,  that,  as  she  phrased  it  to 
herself,  "  Eleanor  had  been  at  her  old  tricks,"  and  "  that  there 
was  underhand  work  somewhere." 

The  red  fever  burned  on,  licking  up  the  life-blood  in  its  fury, 
until  it  seemed  as  if  the  veins  must  be  left  dry,  when  its  violence 
should  be  spent.  The  mother's  face  grew  daily  more  wan,  and 
her  eye  more  sunken  ;  but  she  resisted  the  ravages  of  weariness 
and  care  with  a  strength  that  appeared  not  to  belong  to  her 
delicate  frame v  Upon  Miss  Barbara's  whitleather  constitution, 
no  amount  of  unrest  or  labor  produced  any  perceptible  effect 
She  bore  up  the  better  that  her  sympathies  had  become  interested 
for  her  suffering  charge.  Wildly  astray  as  Katherine's  thoughts 
"•in,  she  was  never  rebellious  to  the  gentle  authority  exercised 
over  her  ;  invariably  submitted,  without  demur,  to  the  directions 
and  restrictions  of  her  attendants. 

"  She  was  never  disobedient !"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  when  Miss 
Barbara  remarked  upon  this  docility. 

The  mother  had  just  administered  a  nauseous  potion,  which  was 
swallowed  uncomplainingly,  and  as  she  replaced  the  cup  upon  the 
table,  Miss  Barbara  saw  the  spasm  that  contracted  brow  and  lip. 
Except  in  these  unguarded  moments,  she  was  composed,  and 
evinced  none  of  the  deadly  apprehension  that  was  preying  upon 
her  heart. 

It  was  the  ninth  night  after  Katherine's  attack,  a  stormy 
November  evening,  when  the  wind  roared  like  some  frantic  thing, 
trying  to  force  its  way  through  the  rattling  casements,  and  the 
leafless  boughs  of  the  grove  groaned  in  the  anguish  of  their 
writhings.  By  ten  o'clock  the  household  was  still.  The  Colonel 
was  in  the  library,  too  sad  and  lonely  to  open  book  or  newspaper. 
He  could  only  listen  for  the  occasional  footsteps  upon  the  floor 
of  his  daughter's  room  overhead,  and  think  of  the  terrible  change 
that  had  faUen  upon  that  young  life  ;  wonder,  in  a  vacant, 

18 


410  H  E  M  E  8  I  8 . 

piteons  way,  why  she  was  smitten  down,  anl  he,  a  grey,  sapless 
trunk,  left  standing.  Above-stairs,  the  vigil  was  anxious  to 
agony — agony  expressed  in  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  compressed  lips 
and  bloodless  cheek,  and  Miss  Barbara's  nervous  movements. 
{Catherine's  pulse  raced  more  madly  than  ever,  and  her  moans,  as 
she  threw  her  arms  about,  and  moved  her  head  uneasily  on  her 
pillow,  were  plaintive  beyond  comparison.  Her  voice,  too,  took 
a  different  key,  low  and  mournful,  and  her  fancies  were  no  more 
gaily  fantastic.  Mother  and  nurse  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
inquiringly — fearfully— as  the  sounds  fell  upon  their  ears.  Each 
gilently  asked,  "  What  means  the  change  ?"  Neither  dared  give 
language  to  the  dread  that  arose  in  reply. 

"  The  rain  !  the  rain  I"  said  the  sick  girl.  "  Oh,  I  cannot  bear 
it  !  It  fell  just  so  mournfully  that  night  [  It  says  over  and 
over,  the  same  thing  :  '  Farewell,  Katherine  !  Farewell,  Kathe- 
rine  I'  I  shall  never  see  him  again.  Miss  Nancy  says  that  he 
will  never  come  back  to  Ben  Lomond." 

From  either  side  of  the  couch,  those  eyes,  so  full  of  fear,  yet 
longing  to  hear  more,  looked  into  each  other,  and  mother  and 
nurse  were  still  as  marble  watchers  above  the  dead. 

"  If  I  could  have  told  him  of  the  letter  1  But  I  promised  hitf 
sister  that  I  would  not.  It  was  very  bitter  1  I  think  I  shall  never 
feel  such  pain  again  until  I  come  to  die.  He  never  loved  me,  al- 
though he  would  have  married  me.  Was  not  that  dreadful  ?  He 
said  so  in  that  letter.  He  never  loved  any  one  but  Marcia  Selden." 

A  start  1  and  a  ray  of  intelligence  passed  from  eye  to  eye,-  and 
they  stared  fixedly  upon  one  another  again. 

''  That  was  long  ago — but  he  feels  it  yet.  His  is  a  deep 
heart.  He  used  to  say  that  mine  was,  too .  I  think  that  greater 
sorrow  is  reserved  for  such.  Deep  as  mine  is,  it  is  filled  up  to 
the  brim.  I  am  very  young  to  suffer  so  n.  _ch.  They  say  the 
Lord  is  pitiful  and  gracious.  Oh,  Father  T  hear  me,  while  I 
plead — I  am  so  young  !  so  young  !" 


N  KM  ESI  8.  4H 

t 

"Poor  little  Ia:nb  !"  subbed  Miss  Barbara.  "Oh,  Mrs. 
Kashleigh  !  I  mistrust  there  has  been  foul  work  here  I  The  Lord 
forgive  them  as  done  it  !" 

"  lit-  never  will  !  /  never  can  !"  She  arose,  like  an  outrage? 
prophetess.  "  I  l\ave  su>pt-eted  this  all  along !  Those  who 
murdered  the  father,  could  not  spare  his  child  1" 

Miss  Barbara  sprang  to  her  feet  in  haste  and  fright — convinced 
that  the  girl's  delirium  had  produced  insanity  in  the  mother. 

"  Mamma  !"  Katherine  settled  her  large,  bright  eyes  upon  her 
parent's  agitated  features.  "  Do  you  recollect  the  doll  papa 
made  for  me — my  Christmas  gift  ?  Where  is  it  now  ?" 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  mute. 

"  Where  is  it  ?"  repeated  Katherine,  "  I  took  good  care  of  it, 
I  am  sure.  When  I  find  it,  maybe  you  will  call  me  '  Kitty ' 
again.  It  would  do  your  poor  child  good,  mamma,  I  ache  so — 
here  !"  She  caught  her  mother's  hand  and  pressed  it  upon  her 
heart. 

"  My  Kitty!  my  precious  darling  !  my  own  little  Kitty!"  cried 
the  lady,  pride  and  self-control  breaking  down  before  the  rush  of 
maternal  emotion.  Falling  upon  the  bed,  she  clasped  her  arms 
around  her  daughter  and  drew  her  to  her  bosom.  Forgetful  of 
prudence,  she  showered  kisses  upon  her  forehead,  cheeks  and 
lips,  with  passionate  murmurings  of  the  long-repressed  love. 

"Gently!  gently!  you  will  excite  her  too  much  !"  cautioned 
Miss  Barbara — but  her  voice  shook,  and  her  countenance  wore 
an  affrighted  look,  as  of  one  who  had  seen  a  vision  from  the 
other  world. 

She  pressed  a  glass  of  wine  upon  the  mother,  and  persuaded 
her  to  lie  down  upon  the  other  bed,  which  had  been  placed  in  the 
room  for  the  watchers.  While  the  Lady's  unwonted  excitement 
1  off  in  hysterical  sobs,  the  considerate  nurse  busied  her- 
self about  the  patient  ;  bathing  her  head  and  hands,  smoothing 
the  covers  and  turning  the  pillows. 


4 12  N  E  M  Ii  8  I  B  . 

i 

At  length,  Mrs.  Rashleigh  got  up,  and  approached  her,  as  sh« 
still  stood  at  the  bedside. 

One  glance  was  exchanged,  and  Miss  Barbara  said  :  "  Yoc 
we  Bessy  Hale  1" 


»  K  M  £  H  I  i 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

DATS  passed,  ere  another  syllable  was  said  with  regard  to  th< 
communication  made  on  the  night  when  the  fever  reached  its 
crisis.  There  was  no  pla^e  in  Miss  Barbara's  soul  for  curiosity 
or  wonderment,  for  Katheriiie's  life  hung  on  a  hair.  At  last,  the 
physicians  lost  all  hope,  and  the  household  gathered  in  the  room 
to  see  her  breathe  away  the  poor  remnant  of  a  life,  lately  so  full 
and  strong.  Then  did  Miss  Barbara  arise  in  her  might,  and 
after  iufqrming  the  pair  of  Galeus  that  she  held  them  to  be  pests 
in  any  family  which  was  so  foolish  or  unfortunate  as  to  employ 
them,  she  cleared  the  chamber  of  all  intruders,  commencing  with 
the  indignant  professors  of  the  healing  art,  and  not  stopping  even 
at  Colonel  Rashlcigh,  whom  she  assured,  as  she  shut  him  out, 
that  she  "  would  show  him  yet  how  much  more  a  live  daughter 
was  worth  than  a  dead  one." 

After  this  coup  d'etat,  she  took  the  case  into  her  own  hands, 
and  her  semi-conscious  patient  soon  acknowledged  the  efficacy  of 
aer  nursing.  In  one  week  more,  she  was  pronounced  out  of 
danger,  and  Miss  Barbara  began  to,  think  of  going  home. 

One  evening  she  left  Katherine  sleeping  quietly,  with  Mrs. 
Holt  to  watch  her,  and  knocked  for  admittance  at  Mrs.  Rash- 
leigh's  door.  That  lady  had  put  on  the  double  wrapper  she  wore 
by  night  in  her  daughter's  chamber,  and  her  thick  hair  was 
brushed  back  from  her  face,  leaving  exposed  its  sharpened,  rigid 
outlines.  Miss  Barbara  did  not  marvel  that  she  had  not  recog- 
nized her  at  an  earlier  date  of  their  intercourse.  But  for  he/ 


Jl  4  NEMESIS. 

confession  of  her  identity  with  the  blooming,  smiling  wife  of 
Mark  Hale,  her  old  friend  would  have  questioned  now  the  reality 
of  her  discovery.  Not  a  feature,  not  a  motion  was  Bessy's. 
Only  an  occasional  intonation  struck  a  responsive  chord  in  the 
memory  of  the  listener,  as  she  made  minute  inquiries  as  to  hei 
judgment  of  the  sick  girl's  condition. 

All  was  going  on  we'll,  Miss  Barbara  said.  She  wasn't  likely 
to  get  well  very  fast.  She  had  been  too  ill  for  that.  But 
"slow  and  sure"  was  the  safest,  and  therefore  the  .best  rule  after 
fevers.  Then,  she  broached  the  subject  of  her  own  departure. 
The  servants  at  Ben  Lomond  were  trustworthy,  yet  it  was  her 
place,  and  her  work  at  Briarwood  seemed  to  be  drawing  to  a 
rlose. 

"First — tell  me  why  you  came  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

Miss  Barbara's  answer  was  as  directly  to  the  point. 

"  You  love  your  child,  and  I  love  mine.  When  he  went  away 
—broken-spirited,  because  she  had  turned  him  off — he*  charged 
ae  if  I  could  ever  be,  of  any  use  to  her,  to  serve  her  as  I  would 
>lo  him,  if  he  were  in  her  place.  That's  why  I'm  here  I" 

"  Who  told  you  that  she  rejected  him  ?" 

"He  did." 

"  While  she  was  at  Montrouge  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  she  assign  any  cause  for  riot  accepting  him  ?" 

"  No." 

"  What  do  you  believe  was  her  reason  ?" 

"  Think  she  was  put  up  to  it  by  other  people — meddlers  !" 

"  Enough  I  Why  have  you  not  asked  me  further  about  what 
my  history  has  been  since  you  parted  from  me,  twelve  years  since  'i ' 

"  Supposed  you  would  tell  me  what  you  chose,  when  the  right 
time  came." 

Without  other  introduction,  ard  as  composedly  as  if  she  were 
relating  the  stow  of  miothor's  life,  she  told  the  tale — which,  a- 


NEMESIS.  411 

we  shall  learn  its  leading  events  from  another  source,  we  need  not 
repeat  in  this  place. 

"And  this  poor  child,  Kitty — Katherine!  you  believe  that  she 
has  forgotten  all  about  her  living  here — her  father  and  Malcolm 
and  me  !  And  she  used  to  be  a  smart,  bright  little  creatur\ 
too  I" 

"  She  has  recollections  of  some  events  of  her  infancy.  Namea 
of  places  and  persons  she  has  lost.  I  considered  it  best  that  she 
should  do  so.  There  was  no  one  to  keep  alive  the  memory  of 
these  things  except  myself,  and  I  have  done  all  that  I  could  to 
help  her  to  forget  them.  A  contrary  course  would  only  have 
made  her  curious  and  unhappy,  without  doing  any  good." 

"  Maybe  so  ;  but  it's  sad  to  think  on.     Poor  Mark  !" 

Again  that  deep,  but  momentary  furrow  of  pain  in  the  tore- 
head — that  tightening  of  the  mouth.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  said  nothing 
for  a  moment — then  replied  : 

"  Colonel  Rashleigh  has  been  a  most  kind  parent  to  Katherine. 
She  owes  him  a  daughter's  affectionate  duty.  Why  should  J 
divide  her  love  for  him  by  recalling  a  Past  that  would  only  make 
her  wretched  ?  Moreover,  I  am  bound  by  a  promise  to  Colonel 
Rashleigh  not  to  divulge  her  real  parentage  to  her  while  he  lives. 
He  has  never  had  a  child  of  his  own,  and  he  is  extremely — 
jealously  attached  to  her." 

"  That's  easy  to  see.  She  is  the  apple  of  his  eye.  But  how 
did  you  happen  to  come  back  here  ?  I  should  ha'  thought  you 
would  have  been  afraid  that  somebody  would  know  you." 

"  Know  me  !"  She  smiled  contemptuously  at  her  image  in  the 
mirror  opposite.  "  W.ould  Adam  have  known  the  Garden  of 
Eden  after  the  Deluge  had  passed  ovei  it  ?  People  that  have 
lived  through  experiences  like  mine  are  never  themselves  again, 
outwardly  or  inwardly.  Did  Mr.  Argyle  or  Mrs.  Moreau— did 
•you  remember  me  ?" 

"  You  arc  mightily  altered  !     Your  daughter  is  like  what  you 


416  NEMESIS. 

i 

used  to  be.  I  Loticed  it  the  fust  time  '1  seen  her,  and  Malcolm 
has  often  spoken  of  it  to  me." 

"  Yet  Mrs.  Moreau  pronounces  her  '  a  noble  type  of  high-bore 
beauty  I' " 

Her  sarcastic  tone  suggested  the  repetition  of  a  former  question 

"  Why  did  you  come  back  here  ?  You  must  dislike  to  be  on 
Nfriendly,  sociable  terms  with  Eleanor  and  the  Bancrofts." 

"  Friendly  terms  !"  Her  brow  lowered  and  her  eyes  glowed. 
"  The  Future  may  tell  another  story.  I  did  not  choose  to  come 
to  America — still  less  to  Virginia — still  less  to  this  neighborhood. 
Destiny  willed  it.  When  I  married  Colonel  Rashleigh  I  was 
ignorant  of  his  relationship  to  Robert  Moreau.  He  had  disowned 
his  sister  at  her  marriage,  and  it  was  not  until  within  three  years 
back  that  accident  made  him  acquainted  with  the  existence  and 
residence  of  her  only  surviving  child.  The  discovery  revealed  to 
me  a  coincidence  so  remarkable  that  I  encouraged  his  disposition 
to  write  to  his  nephew  and  propose  a  reconciliation.  A  corres- 
pondence grew  out  of  this,  which  I  read  without  taking  part  in 
it.  In  process  of  time,  this  same  Destiny  made  another  signifi' 
cant  move.  The  physicians  advised  our  removal  from  England, 
declaring  that  I  could  not  live  longer  in  so  humid  an  atmosphere, 
and  Colonel  Rashleigh,  of  his  own  free  will,  proposed  that  we 
should  join  his  nephew  in  Virginia.  Mark  me  !  I  was  passive — 
was  careful  to  say  nothing  against — nothing  in  favor  of  the 
scheme.  Yet  I  knew  that  we  would  come.  I  saw  the  Hand, 
invisible  to  others,  that  drew  me  hither — that  has  armed  me  for 
my  work  I" 

"  It  is  the  Lord's  doings  !'•'  said  Miss  Barbara,  shocked  at  the 
effects  of  the  suppressed  excitement  that  shook  her  from  head  to 
foot.  "  It  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

"You  call  it  Providence.  I  bow  to  it  as  Destiny.  It  is  al] 
the  same  thing — the  One  Certain  Power,  that  avenges  the  weak 
and  the  wronged  by  human  instrumentality  ;  to  whom  the  blood 


NEMESIS.  417 

of  tlic  innocent  cries  from  the  ground ;  the  Judge  who  appoints  a 
day  of  reckoning  and  retribution  even  in  this  world.  This  is  the 
Deity  I  adore  ;  for  His  chariot-wheels  I  have  waited — I  am  per- 
suaded, not  in  vain  1" 

She  strove  to  master  the  rising  passion — fought  with  it  until 
the  veins  stood  out,  blue  and  swollen  within  the  sunken  temples. 
A  casket  was  near  her  upon  the  table,  and  unclasping  it  with 
uncertain  fingers,  she  took  out  a  phial,  and  hastily  swallowed 
a  portion  of  its  contents.  It  was  rapid  in  its  workings  upon  the 
convulsed  frame.  A  languor — a  heavy  listlcssness  stole  over  he* 
— weighed  upon  her  voice.  \ 

"  Your  just  sense  of  expediency  will  show  you  the  necessity  of 
secrecy  with  respect  to  this  conversation,"  she  said.  "  Colonel 
Rashleigh  does  not  suspect  my  early  connection  with  his  relatives. 
He  married  me  without  inquiry  into  my  antecedents.  I  was  a 
n-| if ctable  woman — a  widow  with  one  child — poor  and  compara- 
tively uneducated.  He  gave  me  his  name  and  wealth  ;  adopted 
my  daughter,  and  granted  me  every  facility  for  acquiring  the 
knowledge  I  needed  to  fit  me  for  my  new  station.  He  does  not 
even  know  that  I  have  ever  lived  in  Virginia  before.  It  was 
more  than  generous — it  was  a  grand  and  noble  confidence  which 
he  reposed  in  me.  ITutil  Fate  ordains  that  he  shall  be  disturbed, 
let  him  r> 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  sleep  for  an  hour  now.  When 
I  rejoin  yon  in  Katherine's  room  we  can  speak  of  your  going 
home.  I  hope,  however,  that  you  will  not  insist  upon  it  for  some 
days  to  come." 

"  I  don't  feel  like  myself  !"  soliloquized  Miss  Barbara,  walking 
ap  and  down  the  passage  to  compose  features  and  nerves.  "  That 
woman  is  not  in  her  right  mind  !  That's  clear  as  daylight  to  me, 
and  some  of  these  days  she'll  do  mischief !  But  who  can  wonder 
at  her  ?  She  has  had  trouble  enough  to  drive  any  one  crazy,  let 
akne  her  having  been  whirled  around  the  world — »••••*  at  (h« 

18* 


4-18  NEMESIS. 

bottom,  1 6V  at  the  top  of  the  wheel.  There's  not  a  bit  of  Bessj 
Hale  left !  'Twould  have  been  a  mercy  to  have  cohered  her  up 
ic  her  husband's  grave,  when  he  was  buried.  Poor  Mark!  It's 
a  blessed  thought  that  there  is  One  who  can  see  the  end  from  the 
beginning  ;  who  can  bring  order  out  of  confusion  and  light  out  of 
darkness,  for  we  silly,  blind  mortals  git  mightily  bewildered  in  the 
crooked  ways  of  this  life/ 

And,  as  was  the  custom  of  this  earnest,  single-hearted  woman 
when  overcome  by  perplexity  about  things  beyond  her  ken,  she 
prayed  inwardly  that  the  afflicted  might  be  comforted  and  th« 
erring  reclaimed — not  punished. 

Katherine  awoke  after  a  refreshing  sleep,  and  found  the  kind, 
homely  nurse  at  her  side.  She  had  recognized  her  so  gradually 
in  her  weakness,  that  she  was  spared  the  confusion  she  would  have 
felt  at  a  sudden  knowledge  of  her  presence  and  attendance. 
Without  inquiring  why  or  when  she  had  come,  she  resigned  lier- 
fielf  to  her  care  with  the  trust  of  a  child  ;  and  as  she  regained  her 
strength,  testified  her  gratitude  by  many  a  look  and  word. 

"  I  have  had  a  fine  nap  ;  I  feel  better,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"  How  late  is  it  ?" 

"Just  ten  o'clock." 

"  I  was  in  hopes  that  it  was  near  morning.  Do  you  think  that 
[  will  sleep  again  before  day  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !  You'll  sleep  more  and  more  every  night  now, 
until  you  do  just  as  you  used  to,  when  you  were  well — never 
turn  over  from  the  time  you  lay  down  until  you  git  up." 

"  I  have  not  slept  so  soundly  as  that  for  many  weeks  !"  sighed 
Katherine.  "  Probably  the  fever  was  coming  on  and  made  mo 
restless." 

"  Very  likely  Let  me  beat  up  your  pillows  Would  you  lik« 
to  sit  up  awhile  ?" 

"  Can  I  ?     Am  I  strong  enough  I" 

"  We  will  see." 


N  K  M  E  6  I  S  .  418 

She  seated  herself  behind  Kathcrine,  with  a  pillow  upon  her 
arm,  thus  forming  a  sort  of  chair,  in  which  the  patient  reclined 
with  an  expression  of  great  satisfaction. 

"  I  have  had  a  pleasant  dream  1"  she  said,  in  the  faint  voicf 
in  which  debility  obliged  her  to  speak.  "  It  was  very  distinct 
too  You  remember  Mr.  Laidley,  the  minister  who  preached  for 
Mr.  Kenny,  one  Sabbath  last  summer  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  dreamed  that  he  had  come  to  see  me.  He  stood  just 
there  " — pointing  to  the  side  of  the  bed — "  and  said — you  recol- 
lect his  sweet  tones — '  From  the  woes  which  our  own  sins  arid  the 
^ius  of  otlers  have  brought  upon  us,  Christ  is  able  to  deliver  us. 
If  the  Father  smites  us  sorely,  it  is  that  we  may  be  healed  by 
i he  Son !'" 

Astonished  and  thrilled,  Miss  Barbara  was  speechless.  Kathe- 
rine  la/,  with  closed  eyes  and  smiling  mouth,  as  if  dwelling  upon 
Kome  delightful  theme.  At  length,  she  asked  : 

"Miss  Barbara,  are  you  a  Christian  ?" 

"  I  hope  so,  dear." 

"I  wish  I  were!  Mrs.  Holt  is  very  pious,  but  although  my 
head  understands  what  she  says,  when  I  question  her  about 
religion,  my  heart  is  as  dull  and  cold  as  clay." 

Miss  Barbara,  charitable  as  she  was,  thought  this  a  natural 
result  of  Mrs.  Holt's  strict  adherence  to  forms  and  creeds — her 
correct,  but  formal  manner  of  speaking  upon  "  serious  subjects." 

"  I  have  always  said  my  prayers  regularly  and  attended  church 
Papa  and  Mrs.  Holt  wished  to  have  me  confirmed,  but  mamma 
objected.  She  said  some  radical  change  of  heart  was  necessary." 

"  She  was  right.  Our  Saviour  says,  '  Ye  must  be  born 
again.'" 

"  I  am  too  weak  now  to  talk  or  to  hear,  but  when  I  am 
stronger  will  you  tell  me  more  about  these  things  ?  I  have  read 
of  the  '  Friend  that  stieketh  closer  than  a  brother.'  I  never  ha<7 


NEMESIS. 

either  brother  or  sister,  I  am  very  lonely  in  the  world  n — her  lip! 
quivered,  and  a  tear  escaped  from  beneath  the  long,  black  lashe? 
"  I  think  that  I  should  like  to  have  this  '  Friend '  for  my  own." 

Miss  Barbara  gave  a  hearty  assent  to  her  request,  and  replaced 
her  on  the  bed,  lest  she  should  become  wearied  by  sitting  up  too 
long.  Then,  while  the  girl  fell  into  a  doze,  the  nurse  laid  her 
head  upon  the  bedside,  and  besought  the  God  of  the  covenant  to 
remember  this  child,  consecrated  in  infancy  to  His  service.  Miss 
Barbara  was  steadfast  in  her  belief — if  not  of  hereditary  piety — ' 
in  the  efficacy  of  parental  prayers,  the  power  of  parental  faith. 
She  had  heard  all  the  circumstances  of  Mark's  last  hours — how 
he  had  commended  his  family  to  the  Father's  care,  and  prayed 
that  he  might  meet  them  in  heaven.  She  was  not  a  fatalist,  as 
was  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  but  she  believed  and  rejoiced  that  she  saw 
the  workings  of  a  mighty  and  merciful  Being,  who,  through  devi- 
ous and  unlikely  paths,  was  bringing  this  lamb  into  the  fold. 
What  the  mother  had  overlooked  in  her  disordered  perception  of 
duty  to  the  living  and  justice  to  the  dead,  the  God  of  the  sainted 
lather  would  yet  perform  in  His  own  good  time  and  way 


E  M  E  8  I  8  421 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

Two  weeks  later  than  the  time  occupied  by  th;  events  narrated 
in  the  foregoing  chapter,  Malcolm  Argyle  was  overtaken  by 
nightfall  in  the  midst  of  a  Southern  forest.  He  had  performed 
the  day's  journey  alone,  and  perceiving  that  he  was  not  yet  in 
sight  of  the  house  he  had  expected  to  reach  at  sunset,  he  began  to 
fear  that  he  had  lost  his  way.  This  idea  gained  strength,  as  the 
end  of  another  mile  showed  him  still  the  seemingly  interminu  le 
stretch  of  woods  on  either  side  of  the  narrow  road.  The 'shadows 
under  the  trees  were  growing  blacker  and  broader,  and  dusk  was 
creeping  across  the  path  a  little  way  ahead  of  him.  The  dense 
banners  of  moss  pendant  from  the  boughs  were  like  sable  drape- 
ries in  the  vast  colonnade  of  Nature's  building,  as,  with  the  cool  of 
the  evening,  there  fell  upon  the  solitude  a  stillness  so  intense  as  to 
be  painful. 

Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  Malcolm  rode  sharply  on,  as  his 
best  chance  of  getting  other  shelter  for  the  night  than  the  mossy 
branches,  with  a  heap  of  withered  leaves  for  his  couch.  Behind 
him,  he  knew,  were  many  miles  unmarked  by  human  habitation. 
The  darkness  increased  with  every  step,  until  but  for  the^gap  in 
the  branches  above,  that  showed  him  the  stars,  he  would  have 
had  great  difficulty  in  keeping  the  road,  such  as  it  was.  Mud- 
holes  of  inconvenient  width  and  problematical  depth  ;  stumps 
from  one  to  two  feet  high,  left  to  be  worn  down  by  wheels  and 
hoofs — and  more  than  once  a  fallen  tree,  lying  partly  across  ,<i 
route,  were  some  of  the  obstacles  bf>i<1ep  the  gloom  that  hinlered 


2  X  h  M  E  S  I  S  , 

his  advance.  Just  as  hope  aud  courage  \vorc  despairing  of  theii 
fiua,.  reward,  the  welcome  tinkle  of  a  cow-bell  was  borne  to  his 
ears.  His  hor.se  pricked  up  his  at  'the  sound,  and  having  some 
knowledge  of  the  creature's  sagacity,  Malcolm  dropped  the  reins 
upon  his  neck  and  let  him  choose  his  own  course.  He  observed, 
by  referring  to  the  stars,  that  they  were  bearing  to  the  right,  and 
from  the  frequent  flapping,  on  either  side  of  his  face,  of  the  hang 
ing  moss,  he  judged  that  they  were  in  a  byway,  yet  more  narrow 
than  the  one  they  had  left.  The  barking  of  dogs  was  further 
confirmation  of  their  approach  to  a  house  of  some  description,  and 
reining  up,  he  shouted  until  the  woods  returned  a  deafening  echo. 

"  Halloo  !"  came  back  with  so  weak  a  sound  that  he  imagined 
himself  mistaken  as  to  his  distance  from  the  clearing,  and  was 
surprised  a  minute  after,  to  see  the  gleam  of  a  lighted  door,  not 
a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  him.  This  was  obscured  by  a  figure 
that  emerged  from  it,  and  advanced  toward  him  slowly,  and 
evidently  intent  upon  the  kindling  of  a  pitchpine  torch  in  its 
hand.  As  this  flared  out  into  the  still  air,  the  traveller  beheld 
the  form  and  face  of  a  boy,  clad  roughly  and  gazing  curiously  up 
at  him. 

"  I  have  iost  my  way  in  the  woods.  Can  I  stay  here  until 
morning  ?"  asked  Malcolm. 

"  I  reckon  so.  I'll  ask  mother,"  and  off  darted  the  little 
fellow  into  the  cabin — for  it  seemed  nothing  more  as  beheld 
imperfectly  through  the  darkness. 

The  child  returned,  breathless  with  running  and  excitement. 

"  Mother  says  you  must  'light  and  walk  in.  I'll  take  your 
horse." 

The  hostess  met  him  on  the  threshold.  She  was  a  woman  in 
middle  life — forty-five,  or  thereabouts  ;  plain,  but  kindly  of  visage, 
and  attired,  like  her  son,  in  coarse  homespun. 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir,  if  you  can  put  up  with  our  poor  vaj 
of  living." 


N  If  M  K  8  I  S.  423 

y<ui  madam.  ]  am  the  one  to  apologize  for  intruding 
myself  into  your  home,  at  such  au  unseasonable  hour.  I  missea 
uiy  i'«--  !  miles  hack,  and  did  not  discover  my  mistake 

until  night  overtook  me.  I  was  forced  to  choose  between  remain- 
ing in  the  outer  air  until  morning,  and  throwing  myself  upon 
your  kind  i 

"  I  am  glad  you  stopped,  sir.  Please  to  take  a  chair.  These 
are  my  two  daughters  !"  she  said,  as  Malcolm  bowed  to  two 
shy,  blushing  girls  of  fourteen  and  sixteen,  who  retired  from  the 
lire  at  his  approach. 

The  house  hud  hut  one  room  on  the  ground-floor,  with  a  loft 
above.  The  furniture  was  mean  and  scanty,  but  scrupulously 
clean  ;  plates  and  cups  were  set  out  upon  a  pine  table  hi  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  and  au  appetizing  odor  of  fried  bacon  saluted 
the  traveller's  olfactories.  While  the  hostess  dished  this,  one  of 
her  daughters  raked  out  some  sweet  potatoes  from  their  bed  of 
hot  ashes,  and  after  brushing  them  off,  placed  them  upon  a 
pewter  platter.  Another  of  smoking  hominy  was  added  ;  a 
pitcher  of  milk,  and  a  plate  of  butter,  and  the  guest  was  invited 
to  partake  of  the  evening  meal. 

"It  is  all  we  can  give  you,  sir,"  said  the  good  woman,  coloring. 
"  I  wish  wt  had  something  better." 

Malcolm  declared,  with  an  emphasis  that  carried  with  it  con- 
viction of  his  sincerity,  that  he  desired  nothing  more  delicious. 
Insisting  that  the  hostess  should  retain  the  seat  of  honor — the 
only  chair  that  had  a  back — which  she  offered  to  him,  he  drew 
up  one  of  the  rude  stools,  such  as  the  children  used,  and  fell  to 
work  upon  the  eatables  with  the  relishful  hunger  of  a  man  who 
had  been  in  the  saddle  and  fasting  since  noon. 

The  tact  innate  to  a  true  gentleman  soon  made  them  all  feel 
at  ease,  and  so  won  upon  the  good  graces  of  the  head  of  the 
honse,  that  she  indulged,  without  restraint,  in  the  tare  pleasure 
,of  conversation  with  a  stnn-  tiin  woi  -id  tho 


•124  NEMESIS. 

v.ocds,  n;;d  vlich  she  had  not  seen  for  so  long.  Her  husband 
had  removed  to  this  wilderness  ten  years  before,  when  there  was 
not  another  house  or  clearing  within  a  day's  journey.  Now — and 
she  stated  it  with  the  satisfaction  of  one  who  was  proud  of  being 
the  inhabitant  of  a  thriving  community — there  were  two  other 
families,  not  more  than  six  miles  off.  She  had  been  a  widow  for 
our  years.  When  her  husband  died  and  left  her  with  three 
children  to  provide  for — the  youngest,  the  boy,  whom  she  called 
41  Mai,"  but  seven  years  old — she  felt  as  if  nothing  but  starvation 
awaited  them  ;  but  the  Lord  had  helped  them  through  all  their 
"  tough  times."  The  neighbors  (?)  were  very  kind.  They  did 
the  spring  and  fall  ploughing  of  the  small  farm  ;  the  planting 
and  hoeing  and  weeding  was  performed  by  her  daughters  and 
herself.  They  had  an  old  horse,  which  was  still  able  to  carry 
corn  to  the  mill,  and  to  jog  back  and  forth  upon  the  little  erranda 
she  had  abroad  ;  and  a  cow,  without  whose  milk  they  could  not 
live  ;  a  calf  that  would  be  a  cow  next  year,  and  always  as  many 
pigs  as  they  wanted,  that  fattened  in  the  woods. 

To  these  artless  details,  Malcolm  listened  sympathizingly,  and 
with  secret  admiration  of  the  contentment  and  courage  of  the 
faithful  mother,  who  found  so  many  blessings  in  a  lot  that  to 
most  people  would  have  been  one  of  unmitigated  hardship.  The 
supper  over,  both  mother  and  girls  sat  down  at  the  fire  with  their 
knitting.  The  boy  established  himself  upon  a  block  in  the  corner, 
with  a  piece  of  boaroT  and  a  bit  of  charred  stick,  to  which  he 
applied  himself  as  diligently  as  though  work  and  not  play  were 
his  object. 

"  Are  you  learning  to  draw  ?"  inquired. Malcolm  of  him. 

The  boy  looked  up,  and  his  fine,  intelligent  face  was  dyed  with 
bashful  blushes. 

"  No,  sir,"  he  replied. 

44  He  is  trying  to  write,"  said  his  mother,  betwixt  a  smile  and 
a  sigh,  "  There's  no  schools  near  us,  and  if  there  was,  I  can't 


NEMESIS.  4:25 

afford  to  send  him  just  now.  I've  taught  mj  children  to  read 
and  write  as  far  as  I  could  ;  but  paper  and  ink  are  too  dear  to 
be  wasted,  and  Mai  hasn't  any  slate.  The  other  day,  he  came 
running  in,  in  great  spirits,  to  tell  me  that  he  had  seen  a  lot  o! 
ends  of  smooth  bo  1  over  at  Mr.  Humphrey's,  who  is  building  a 
frame  house,  and  Mr.  Humphrey  had_told  him  he  might  have 
'em.  And  he  brought  'em  home  and  r'ally  they  answer  pretty 
well.  He's  improved  smartly  since  he  got  'em.  Show  the 
gentleman  your  writin',  Mai." 

With  a  deeper  blush,  the  boy  handed  him  the  primitive  tablet, 
on  which  he  had  scrawled — "  Malcum  Argile  Foster." 

"  Malcolm  Argyle  !  where  did  you  get  that  name,  my  little  man  ?1 

"  He  got  it  in  a  queer  sort  of  way,  sir,"  responded  the  mother. 
"  It  was  given  to  him  by  a  little  girl  not  more  than  five  years  old 
— Kitty  Hale  was  her  m\me." 

Malcolm  started  violently. 

"  I  once  knew  a  person  of  that  name,"  he  said,  huskily.  "  Where 
did  she  live  at  the  time  you  speak  of.  Do  you  know  where  she  is 
now  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  don't,  sir,  no  more  than  the  dead  !  'Twas  when  we 
lived  in  North  Carolina,  in  a  place  called  Pineville.  There  wasn't 
anything  of  a  town  there,  for  all  they  called  it  '  ville,'  hoping,  I 
s'pose,  that  it  would  grow  bigger  sometime.  There  was  the 
tavern  and  store,  all  in  one  house,  and  the  blacksmith's  shop,  and 
we  lived  on  our  farm,  a  matter  of  a  quarter,  of  a  mile  from  the 
tavern.  It  was  kept  by  a  widow  woman  ;  a  Mrs.  Smith,  who 
married  for  her  second  husband  a  peddler  named  Bryan,  a  likely- 
looking,  good-natured  fellow,  but  law  me  !  with  no  more  sperrit 
in  him  than  there  is  in  milk-and-water  ;  just  one  of  the  sort  that's 
always  a-doing  odd  jobs  for  other  people  and  never  earning  the 
salt  to  his  own  bread.  Well,  the  widow  took  up  with  him,  and 
about  six  weeks  afterward  here  came  his  sister,  whose  husband 
hai  just  died  in  Yirgumy,  and  her  child,  the  little  Kitty  1  was 


126  NEMESIS. 

telling  you  of.  It  seems  that  Bryan  had  wrote  to  her  when  he 
was  married,  anl  sent  a,  message  from  his  wife,  begging  her  to 
pay  'em  a  vi.sit,  for,  according  to  his  account,  they  were  -doing 
wonderful  well,  and  Mrs.  Bryan,  she  thought  they'd  do  credit  to 
her  fam'ly..  She  was  a  cute,  managing  woman,  and  fa'rly  mad 
after  getting  rich.  My  husband  was  down  at  the  store  when  the 
wagon  drove  up  with  Mrs.  Hale,  and  I've  heered  him  tell  how 
she  dropped  in  a  dead  faint  at  her  brother's  feet,  who  was  mightily 
shocked,  seeing  he  hadn't  got  the  news  of  his  brother-in-law's 
death.  Well,  they  brought  her  to,  and  by  and  by  got  the  story 
from  her,  and  then  there  was  a  high  quarrel  between  Bryan  and 
his  wife.  She  was  for  bundling  the  poor  thing  out  of  doors  to 
take  care  of  herself,  and  he  showed  some  temper  for  once,  and 
vowed  that  as  long  as  he  had  a  loaf  of  bread  his  sister  and  her 
child  should  have  a  slice  of  it.  I've  heered  that  the  poor  woman 
appeared  to  be  in  a  stupor-like  while  the  fuss  was  going  on,  but 
the  next  day  she  told  her  brother  how  she  would  not  stay  where 
she  wasn't  welcome  ;  she'd  beg  along  the  road  first !  By  this 
time  Mrs  Bryan  had  cooled  down,  and  afraid  of  what  people  \  <•  uld 
say  if  she  refused  her  husband's  sister  a  place  to  lay  her  head,  she 
proposed  that  Mrs.  Hale  should  pay  her  board  and  her  child's  by 
sewing  and  helping  about  the  store  and  tavern.  What  could  she 
do  but  agree  to  this  ?  She  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  country, 
and  could  not  get  any  other  work  if  she  had  tried. 

"  But  'twas  a  hard  life  she  had  of  it,  sir  !  Mrs.  Bryan  hated 
her,  and  while  she  made  all  the  use  of  her  she  could,  she  worked 
her  harder  than  she  did  her  negroes.  She  was  always  saying 
spiteful  things  about  her  and  to  her.  Bryan  himself  called  his 
Bister  '  Bessy '  for  awhile,  but  his  wife  could  not  stand  this,  for  her 
name  was  Betsey,  and  ske  give  him  no  peace  till  he  called  her  by 
her  first  name,  '  Margaret,'  instead,  and  Mrs.  Bryan,  to  be  aggro* 
vating,  and  disrespect  her  in  every  way,  altered  this  to  '  Peggy,' 
she  spoke  to  ^er.  This  was  one  of  the  least  ways  she  had 


N  E  M  E  427 

of  worrying  hei.  She'd  fling  it  in  her  tooth,  how  she  had  beet 
thro  wed  ou  her  brother's  hands — was  eating  her  children's  bread 
— she  and  little  Kitty,  and  then  dare  her  to  leave  her 

She'd  see  that  she  had  a  name  sent  after  her  that  wonW 
shut  the  door  of  all  honest   people  in  her  face.     Yet,  th> 
that  Mrs.  Hale  never  answered  her  back  one  word  except  once, 
when  Mrs.  Bryan  was  going  to  beat  Kitty  for  what  she  called 
'  to  her  oldest  boy.     Then  Mrs.  Hale  seiml  her  child  and 
threatened  to  kill  her  sister-in-law  if  she  ever  laid  the  weight  of 
her  linger  on  her.      I've  hcered  that  she  was  like  a  tiger,  and- 
Mrs.   Bryan  was  desperately  seared.     She  never  struck  Kitty, 
but  she  found  plenty  of  opportunities  of  spiting  'ern  both 

"  When  I  first  saw  Kitty,  Mai  there  was  just  a  week  old,  and 
this  little  girl  came  over  to  our  house,  with  one  of  the  young 
Bryaus  to  borrow  a  rising  of  yeast.  Mrs.  Bryan's  had  got  sour. 
Well,  I  was  struck  with  the  child  the  minute  I  clapped  eyes 
on  her.  She  was  no  more  like  Mrs.  Bryan's  red-haired  brat, 
than  snow  is  like  red  clay.  She  spoke  so  modest  and  \ 
and  had  such  red  cheeks  and  bright  black  eyes,  I  couldn't  help  but 
stare  at  her  all  the  while  she  was  there.  I  was  a-sitting  by  the 
fire,  with  the  baby  in  my  lap,  and  thinking  'twould  please  her,  I 
turned  down  the  blanket  and  showed  him  to  her.  Mai,  my  son, 
get  another  lightwood  knot." 

Malcolm  did  not  stir  during  the  pause  that  endued,  while  the 
torch  was  adjusted  to  Mrs.  Filer's  fancy.  Then,  she  dropped 
one  of  her  knitting  needles,  and  a  general  hunt  was  instituted 
before  she  could  resume  the  thread  of  her  narrative.  The  nails 
of  Malcolm's  clinched  hand  cut  into  the  flesh  -^  there  was  a  stric- 
ture, like  the  clutch  of  an  iron  hand  upon  his  throat,  and  a  ring 
ing  and  roaring  in  h's  brain,  like  the  beat  of  a  hundred  iron 
hammers,  but  he  did  not  offer  comment  by  word  or  gesture.  Tan- 
talizing as  was  her  verbose  lengthening  of  the  tale,  he  could  nol 
ajjeak'to  hasten  the  sequel  for  which  he  longed. 


128  NEMESIS. 

"  Well !  as  I  was  saying,  I  showed  her  the  baby,  and  she  wa* 
mightily  pleased. 

"  '  What's  his  name  ?'  says  she 

"  '  He  hasn't  got  any  yet,'  said  I. 

"  For  yon  see,  sir,  he  was  my  third  ooy,  and  as  I  had  called 
one  after  my  father  and  another  after  my  husband,  I  wasn't 
particular  about  this  one.  He's  the  only  one  that's  left  now  !" 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Says  I — '  What  must  I  name  him,  Kitty  ?'  never  thinking, 
you  know,  sir,  that  she'd  take  what  I  said  in  earnest.  But  she 
looked  up  at  me  so  wistful — so  kind  o'  sorrowful-like,  and  saya 
she — '  I  wish  you  would  call  him  Malcum  Argile  '  " 

Malcolm  knocked  over  his  stool  and  walked  to  the  door  ; 
opened  it,  and  stood  gasping  for  breath.  The  picture  was  too 
painfully  vivid.  He  seemed  to  see  through  the  outer  darkness, 
the  large  mournful  eyes  of  his  lost  playfellow  ;  was  pierced  in 
the  heart  at  _  this  pathetic  evidence  of  her  affection  for  him. 
Again,  from  his  soul,  arose  that  sad  and  vain  inquiry — "  Dear 
little  Kitty  !  wheie  is  she  now  ?"  He  would  summon  strength 
to  listen  to  the  end. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam  1"  he  said,  returning  to  the  fire- 
place. "  I  was  attacked  by  a  slight  giddiness.  It  is  gone  now. 
Pray  go  on  I  I  am  exceedingly  interested  in  your  history." 

"  I  was  afeerd  I  might  be  tiring  you  ?"  said  the  flattered 
hostess.  "  I  am  apt  to  spin  long  yarns,  the  girls  tell  me. 

"  So,  says  I  to  her — '  Malcum  Argile  !'  says  I — '  honey,  that 
Bounds  outlandish  to  me.  Did  you  ever  know  anybody  of  thai 
name  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  ma'am,'  says  she,  '  and  he  was  a  beautiful  gentleman, 
nt  he's  gone  away  over  the  water  now.' 

"  Father — that's  my  husband — was  standing  by,  and  he  was 
always  a  soft-hearted  man,  and  says  he — 'Mother,'  says^he,  '  that 
shrill  be  the  boy's  name,  jist  to  please  her  !'  and  being  one  of  yonf 


NEMESIS.  429 

quick-upoii  -the-trigger  sort,  he  reached  down  the  family  Bible 
from  the  chimbly-piece,  and  wrote  it  right  down,  and  little  Kitty 
a-li  >oking  over  him,  while  he  did  it,  and  she  was  delighted,  you 
may  be  sure. 

"  A  sweet  child  she  was,  and  although  she  was  nothing  more 
than  a  baby,  as  you  may  say,  she  had  sense  and  feeling  iu  abun- 
dance. This  ugly  girl  of  Mrs.  Bryan's — she  was  kind,  o'  jealous 
of  the  no'tice  we  took  of  Kitty,  and  says  she,  in  a  rude,  loud 
way — '  Kitty  Hale  1  you  are  taking  on  a  heap  of  airs  for  a 
beggar,  whose  father  died  in  a  jail  !' 

x  "  *  He  didn't  !'  says  Kitty,  as  spunkey  as  could  be.  '  Mamma 
says  I'll  see  papa  again  some  tune — so  he  can't  be  dead — can  he, 
Mrs.  Foster  ?  Mamma  says  he's  gone  away,  and  she  don't  teU 
stories — ever  !' 

"  I  hadn't  it  in  my  heart  to  tell  her  what  her  mother  really 
meant — that  she  would  meet  him  in  Heaven — and  so  I  says — 
'  I  hope  you  will  meet  him  again,  dear,  and  I've  no  doubt  you'll 
be  very  happy  together.' 

"  And  after  that,  she  was  as  chirpy  as  a  bird.  Thafs  the 
way  my  Mai  came  by  his  name,  sir." 

"  But  the  girl  I  what  became  of  her  at  last  ?"  said  Malcolm, 
;bling  his  feverish  impatience. 

"  That's  the  strangest  part  of  the  story,  sir  1  Things  got 
worse  and  worse  at  the  tavern.  Poor  Mrs.  Hale  was  slaving 
from  morning  to  night,  until  she  was  worn  down  to  skin  and 
bout-,  yet  she  was  a  pretty  woman  in  spite  of  it.  She  had  a  grand 
look  and  walk,  and  spoke  like  a  born  lady.  Mrs,  Bryan  was 
forever  abusing  her  for  her  'uppish  ways.'  I  never  saw  her 
Bn-ile,  sir  !  I  went  down  to  see  her  a  number  of  tunes,  for  my 
heart  ached  for  the  lone  creatur',  but  she  was  backward  in  talk- 
ing— not  one  bit  sociable.  She  never  was  at  our  house  but  once, 
and  that  was  about  Christmas,  the  winter  after  she  came  to  Pine- 
ville.  It  happened  »u  this  way  :  My  husband  and  T  had 


4:30  NEMESIS. 

noticed  that  Kitty  was  getting  shabby.  Her  clothes  weie 
always  whole  and  neat,  and  her  face  and  hands  clean,  bit  hei 
gowns  were  patched  and  faded,  and  her  shoes  fairly  gone.  So, 
when  husband  took  our  crop  to  town,  he  bought  her  a  pair  of 
shoes,  along  with  our  children's,  and  I  cut  off  enough  linsey  froia 
*  piece  I  had  just  taken  out  of  the  loom,  to  make  her  a  frock, 
and  sent  them  down  to  Mrs.  Hale.  That  evening,  she  came  up 
to  see  me,  and  brought  a  beauty  of  a  plaid  frock,  which  she  said 
had  been  given  to  "Kitty  more  than  a  year  before  She  had  out- 
grown it  entirely,  and  her  mother  hadn't  anything  to  alter  it 
with,  but  she  reckoned  'twould  fit  my  Emmy  there,  and  it  did — 
nicely.  She  wanted  me  take  it  as  a  proof  that  she  was  thankful 
to  me  for  the  things  I  had  sent  her  girl,  and,  though  I  wa"s  loath 
to  do  it,  I  saw  she  would  be  hurt  if  I  didn't. 

"  By  the  time  them  shoes  were  worn  out,  a  traveller  happened 
to  stop  over  night  at  Bryan's  tavern. — a  rich  gentleman,  with  his 
carriage  and  horses  and  two  servants.  He  hadn't  been  in  Ame« 
riky  long,  for  he  was  an  Englishman  " 

She  stopped,  for  Malcolm's  gaze  seemed  to  go  through  her. 

"  Go  on — go  on  I"  he  said,  impatiently. 

"  This  Colonel  Rashleigh  " 

"  I  thought  so  1" 

The  honest  woman  feared  that  her  guest  had  lost  his  wits, 
and  the  girls  clung  silently  to  one  another,  as  he  strode  up  and 
down  the  room,  unconscious  where  he  was,  or  how  he  was 
acting.  ^ 

"Go  on,  if  you  please." 

He  dropped  upon  the  stool  again, 

"  Yor  don't  seem  well,  sir." 

"  It  is  nothing.     Go  on !" 

"  There  isn't  much  more  to  tell.  Colonel  Rashleigh  was  taken, 
in  the  night,  with  a  spell  of  gout  that  tied  him  down  for  three 
weeka  Mrs.  Bryan  made  her  sister-in-law  wait  on  htm—  deal 


N   1<:  M  E  S  I  8  .  431 

op  his  room  aud  take  him  his  meals.     When  he  got  better,  he 
paid  his  bill  and  left,  and  matters  went  on  jest  the  same,  for  all 
anybody  else  could  see,  and  Mrs.  Bryan  hadn't  a  notion  of  any 
thing  between  the  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Hale,  until  a  month  after 
ward,  he  drove  up  to  the  door  with  a  minister  and  a  magistrate, 
•and  told  Bryan  that  he  had  come  to  marry  his  sister.     W 
tin-re  a   to-do  then  1     Bryan  hadn't  a  word  to  say,  but  nothing 
was  too  bad  for  his  wife  to  heap  upon  Mrs.  Hale.     We  hadn't 
heard  a  whisper  of  what  was  going-  on,  and  I  was  hard  at  work 
at  my  spinning,  when  there  came  sech  a  knock  at  the  door  that  I 
a'most  jumped  out  of  my  skin.     When  I  opened  it,  I  saw  a  very 
respectable-looking  man,  with  a  gold  band  around  his  hat  and  a 
stick  in  his  hand.  , 

"  Says  he,  '  I  wish  to  see  Mrs.  Foster.' 

"  Says  I,  '  This  is  Mrs.  Foster.' 

"  Then  he  took  off  his  hat  and  made  me  a  bow,  and  says  (u>, 
'  Mrs.  Hale's  compliments,  and  she  would  like  to  have  you  ride 
down  to  Mr.  Bryan's.  She  wishes  to  see  you  upon  important 
business.' 

"  I  put  on  my  best  gown  in  a  hurry,  and  got  into  the  carriage, 
feeling  like  I  was  in  a  dream.  When  I  'lighted  at  the  tavern- 
door,  the  man  helped  me  out,  and  then  showed  me  up  to  Mrs. 
Hale's  room — a  cuddy-hole  of  a  place,  hardly  big  enough  to  turn 
around  in.  And  there  she  was,  dressed  up  as  elegant  as  could 
be,  in  a  grey  silk  gown,  and  a  grey  hat  with  black  feathers,  and 
white  gloves. 

"  Mrs,  Foster,'  says  she,  '  J  have  made  so  free  as  to  send  for 
you  to  be  one  of  the  witnesses  of  my  marriage  with  Colonel  Rash- 
leiuh.  I  am  all  ready.' 

"  She  stooped  down,  and  shut  a  trunk  that  I  conld  see  wag 
full  of  handsome  things.  I've  heard  since  that  Colonel  Rashleigh 
had  had  them  made,  and  brought  them  with  him  that  morning. 

"  Mrs.  Hale  wasn't  a  bit  flustered — jest  as  gra-e  and  quiel 


433  NEMESIS. 

as  a  judge,  and  my  senses   seemed  turning  topsy-turvy  all  the 
time. 

"  '  You  will  stay  here,  Kitty,'  says  she  to  her  daughter. 
"  The  little  creatur'  sat  up  on  the  bed  to  be  out  of  her  mother's 
•way,  looking  puzzled  and  scared — the  pitifullest  stare  I  ever  saw 

"  '  Will  you  come  back,  mamma  ?'.says  she,  ready  to  cry. 

"  '  In  a  few  minutes,'  says  Mrs.  Hale  ;  and  she  went  op  to 
her  and  kissed  her;  but  'twasn't  as  I,  or  most  other  women  would 
kiss  their  children — and  says  she,  a-drawing  in  her  breath  hard, 
like  a  sob — says  she,  '  Your  papa  is  downstairs,  and  if  you  will 
be  a  good  girl,  I  will  take  you  down  to  see  him  presently.  He 
sent  you  that  pretty  dress  you  have  on ' — for  the  child  was  decked 
out  like  a  rose. 

-"  We  left  her  clapping  her  hands  and  laughing,  and  went  down- 
stairs. 

"  '  Why  don't  you  let  her  see  you  married  ?'  says  I. 

"  '  I  do  not  want  her  to  remember  how  she  got  her  fathe", 
says  slie. 

"  Outside  the  big-room  door  below,  she  stopped  and  caught  her 
breath  again,  and  there  wasn't  a  speck  of  color  in  her  face.  I 
thougbt  she  was  going  to  swoon,  but  at  that  minute,  Mrs.  Bryan 
came  along  the  passage  where  we  were  standing. 

"  '  Mighty  fine  feathers,  indeed  !'  she  began,  setting  her  arms 
akimbo. 

"  Before  she  could  say  another  word,  Mrs.  Hale  pushed  open 
the  door,  and  Colonel  Rashleigh  stepped  up  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Well !  they  were  married,  and  we  had  a  world  of  trouble  to 
persuade  Kitty  that  this  was  her  '  papa  ;'  but,  at  last,  she  wiped 
up  her  tears,  and  let  him  take  her  on  his  knee.  A  kind  gentle- 
man he  seemed  to  be — about  fifty-five  years  old,  with  a  red  face 
and  very  grey  hah-.  They  went  away  almost  directly  after  the 
marriage  was  over.  I  heard  Colonel  Rashleigh  say  that  they 
would  sail  for  the  old  country  in  a  week.  When,  little 


a  E  M  E  8  I  I  483 

told  rac  '  Good  bye,'  she  slipped  a  purse  into  my  hand  *t  was 
dot  very  large,  but  it  was  brimful.  We  found  it  very  useful  that 
coming  summer,  for  we  were  all  down  with  the  fever,  and  my  two 
oiliest  boys  died  about  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Bryan  did.  It 
was  a  dreadful  year  with  many  other  fam'lies  around  us.  1 
couldn't  bear  to  stay  there  any  longer,  and  we  broke  up  and 
moved  out  here.  I've  heered  sence  that  Mrs.  Bryan  was  dead, 
too  ;  but  we've  lost  sight  of  'em,  moving  so  far  off.  Pineville 
was  always  an  onhealthy  situation.  We  like  this  place  better, 
lonesome  as  it  seemed  at  first." 

"Have  you  never  had  any  further  intelligence  of  your  friends, 
the  Rashleighs  ?" 

"No,  sir.  I  didn't  expect  it  after  they  crossed  the  ocean. 
Kitty  must  be  seventeen  years  old  by  this  time.  She  was  a  year 
older  than  my  Polly  there.  I  hadn't  thought  of  the  story  in 
months  and  mouths,  until  you  reminded  me  of  it  by  asking  about 
Mai's  name." 

"  I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  for  the  evening's  entertain- 
ment," answered  Malcohn,  rising.  "  Now,  madam,  if  you  have  a 
ipare  corner  anywhere  for  me,  I  will  thank  Mai  to  show  me  to 
my  resting-place  for  the  night.  I  am  weary,  and  I  must  be 
stirring  early  in  the  morning." 

Mrs.  Foster  entreated  him  to  permit  her  to  give  up  the  bes* 
bed  to  him,  and  when  he  resolutely  refused  to  turn  her  out  of  her 
room,  confessed  that  there  were  tolerably  comfortable  lodgings 
"  upstairs."  The  loft,  dignified  by  this  appellation,  was  accessible 
by  a  ladder  and  trap-door.  The  boards  of  the  floor  creaked 
under  Malcolm's  tread,  and  after  ne  stretched  himself  upon  the 
"shuck"  mattress,  he  could  catch  the  glimmer  of  the  start 
through  the  cracks  in  the  roof. 

Had  his  couch  been  made  of  down,  and  his  chamber  a  royal 
laloon,  he  would  have  passed  as  restless  a  night  as  was  now  in 
eserve  for  him.  It  was,  with  him,  one  of  the  seasons  when  mar 

19 


4  NEMESIS. 

feels  himself  to  be  a  mere  bubble,  carried  aud  tossed  along  by  tha 
resistless  tide  of  providential  purpose.  The  quest  of  twelve  years 
was  at  an  end.  All  that  mortal  could  do  he  had  done  to  track 
the^fugitives.  It  had  been  one  great  wish  of  his  life  to  make 
what  restitution  lay  in  his  gift  to  the  widow  and  child  of  bis  lost 
friend  And  what  had  effort  and  desire  and  resolve  effected? 
Nothing !  He  had  rowed  his  tiny  skiff  in  every  direction,  but 
never  beyond  the  length  of  the  unseen  cord  that  held  him  to  one 
spot  ;  and  when  search  was  proved  to  be  futile,  and  expectation 
was  dying  out,  the  mighty,  mysterious  wave  of  Destiny  had 
brought  the  sought-for  treasures  to  his  side — aye,  and  would  have 
done  the  same  and  as  surely,  had  he  remained  inactive. 

They  were  found  1  and  not  through  his  instrumentality.  In  all 
efforts  for  this  end  he  had  been  powerless — and  now  ?  How 
fchould  he  perform  his  vow  of  enrichment  and  protection  of  the 
unfortunates  ?  They  did  not  need  him  !  Prom  the  memory  of 
one  his  former  self  had  passed  entirely  and  forever.  For  aught 
he  knew,  the  other  classed  him  with  the  enemies  who  had  hunted 
her  partner  to  his  death.  For  poor  Bessy's  wrongs  and  humili- 
ations hig  heart  had  bled,  while  the  homely  tale  was  told.  He 
understood  the  proud,  mute  anguish  whose  very  smart  endowed 
her  with  strength  to  bear  up  under  the  insults  poured  upon  her  j 
recognized  the  flash  of  the  old  spirit  in  the  passionate  defence  of 
her  babe  ;  appreciated  the  temper  in  which,  before  her  idolized 
husband  had  lain  a  year  in  his  grave,  she  had  wedded  again,  that 
her  child  might  have  a  home  and  herself  an  asylum  from  insult 
and  cruelty. 

But  they  did  not  need  him  !  He  recalled  Mrs.  Rashleigh'a 
every  haughty  glance— every  icy  tone.  The  mistress  of  wealth 
surpassing  his  own  ;  the  wife  of  a  gentleman,  whose  pretensions 
to  rank  gave  him  the  precedence  above  himself  in  aristocratic  con- 
sequence, she  might  well  ignore  any  former  acquaintanceship  with 
one  whom  the  silent  force  of  circumstantial  evidence  must  brand 


H  E  M  E  S  I  8  .  435 

fcs  an  ingrat-e  ia  her  sight.  And  Kitty,  bis  early  darling  ;  his 
sweet  little  playfellow  ;  his  tender,  devoted  nurse,  whose  soft  lips 
he  had  often  felt  upon  his  brow  in  dreams  of  those  boyish  days  ! 
The  glow  that  rushed  through  his  heart,  as  in  one  intoxicating 
moment  he  identified  her  with  the  Katherine  who  had  walked  and 
ridden  by  his  side,  and  talked  to  him  of  the  visions  of  her  child- 
hood, the  longings  of  her  lonely  girlhood  ;  this  blissful  thrill  was 
gone  almost  as  soon  as  felt.  No  I  she  had  less  need  of  him  than 
her  stately  impassive  mother.  To  the  latter  he  might  make  him- 
self acceptable  by  the  wand  of  memory  ;  could  explain  away  the 
false  appearances  that  had  caused  her  to  misjudge  his  fidelity  to 
his  word  ;  his  abiding  and  grateful  friendship  for  her  and  her 
beloved  ones.  But  with  Katherine",  there  had  been  no  snch 
impediment  to  a  perfect  understanding  of  his  character  and  con 
duct.  She  knew  him  as  well  as  she  ever  could,  and  with  this 
knowledge  she  had  refused  his  love.  The  thought  that  she  waa 
privy  to  the  secret  her  mother  guarded  so  successfully  never  pre- 
sented itself  to  him.  He  had  implicit  faith  in  her  truthfulness  ; 
believed  her  sincere  in  every  statement  she  had  made  with  regard 
to  her  confused  impressions  of  her  childish  life,  and  her  declara- 
tions concerning  her  parentage  and  birthplace. 

A  few  short  hours  before,  and  had  he  been  told  that  the  refuge 
of  the  wanderers  would  be  made  known  to  hin«,  he  would  hav<i 
flouted  the  suggestion  that  any  circumstance  or  combination  of 
events  could  have  deterred  him  from  seeking  thi'm  and  making 
himself  known.  Now,  what  was  more  feasible  than  this  <^t-pre- 
meditated  course  ?  Yet  he  would  as  soon  march  to  the  stake  as 
allude  to  their  ancient  amity  ;  the  dear  and  mournful  associations 
that  he  had  fondly  imagined  would  be  an  indissoluble  link  between 
them.  In  the  grief,  wonder  and  despair  of  those  hours,  so 
crowded  with  memories  and  with  thoughts,  he  still  recurred  once 
or  twice  to  Eleanor's  peculiar  relations  with  her  uncle's  wife,  who 
must  hold  her  in  utter  abhorrence,  politely  indifferent  as  she 


i36  NEMESIS 

appeared  t;  be  ;  to  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  cautioii  to  her  husband  against 
the  elder  Bancroft,  and  her  cavalier  treatment  of  the  younger 
apon  several  occasions  ;  but  it  was  with  the  helpless  feeling  of  one 
who  sees  others  carried  on  with  him  upon  the  omnipotent  current 
- — straws,  sticks,  weeds — all  worthless  and  insignificant  things, 
x>rne  steadily,  inevitably  wherever  the  wave  listed. 

Mrs.  Foster  and  her  daughters  thought  that  their  lodger  looked 
older  and  less  handsome  by  daylight,  than  when  seen  in  the  red 
glare  of  the  pitch  pine.  He  seemed  "  misrested"  too,  the  widow 
declared,  and  was  profuse  in  her  apologies  for  his  night's  accom- 
modations ;  regrets  and  inquiries  which  he  parried  by  the  assertion 
that  he  had  been  served  with  everything  that  was  necessary  and 
comfortable. 

After  his  departure,  one  of  the  girls  going  up  to  make  his  bed. 
found  a  parcel  pinned  fast  to  the  pillow  whereon  had  lain  his 
vreary  head,  and  brought  it  down  to  her  mother.  It  was  directed 
to  "  Mrs.  Foster,"  and  as  she  unfolded  it  four  or  five  bank-notes 
fell  from  within,  wound  around  with  a  slip  of  paper.  Upon  thi* 
was  written — "For  '  MaFs'  $chooiing.  From  Malcolm  Argyk." 


£  M  E  8  I  ». 


CHAPTER     XXXL 

THERE  was  another  solitary  watcher  of  the  stars  on  the  Pecem- 
per  night  in  which  Malcolm  Argyle  saw  them  through  the  ere- 
rices  of  Mrs.  Fosters  roof.  The  open  country  surrounding  Briar 
wood  was  an  expanse  of  snow,  from  whose  surface  trees  and 
fences  and  buildings  started  up  with  ghostly  distinctness,  although 
there  was  no  moon.  Long,  tremulous  fingers  of  white  light  and 
flashes  of  colored  lambent  flame  streamed  up  in  the  Xorth,  and 
the  very  air  seemed  spell-bound  by  the  keen  frost.  There  was 
no  sound  throughout  the  orderly  English  household.  The  broad 
staircase  and  the  halls  below  and  above,  were  dark  and  still. 
The  eye  of  an  observer  from  without  would  have  seen  the  lighted 
windows  of  but  two  rooms.  It  was  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  Colo- 
nel enjoyed  his  nap  in  the  library,  leaning  back  in  his  stuffed 
chair  ;  his  gouty  foot  on  its  cushion,  and  a  large  fire  in  the 
chimney.  His  wife  had  gone  upstairs  an  hour  before,  to  see  that 
her  daughter  needed  nothing  that  could  ensure  her  a  good  uight'a 
rest.  He  doubted  not  that  both  were  sound  s^k-op  by  this  time. 
Women  required  more  of  this  natural  refreshment,  than  robust 
men  did,  and  he  would  have  adduced  proof  r>f  this  "  remarkable  " 
law  of  nature  in  his  own  constitution,  »und  and  vigorous,  except 
for  the  gout,  which  was  a  blustering,  harmless  attack  upon  the 
outposts  ;  yet  he  had  not  retired  before  midnight,  in  thirty  years. 

Tin-re  was  no  echo  or  jar  upon  the  upper  flooring.  Even 
Katherine,  whose  room  adjoined  her  mother's,  did  not  hear  the 
slippered  tread  that  wandered  up  ai:d  down — up  and  down— Mrs 


433  NEMESIS. 

Rashleigh's  chamber,  until  one  would  have  thought  the  weary 
fragile  body  must  be  ready  to  sink  down  in  utter  prostration, 
The  noiseless  step  that  habit  had  made  natural  to  her  in  these 
nocturnal  promenades,  reminded  one  of  the  majestic,  stealthy 
march  of  a  tiger  on  the  scent  of  its  prey,  and  the  eyes,  while  they 
avidently  perceived  none  of  the  objects  about  her,  were  searching, 
inquisitive,  triumphant.  The  latter  expression  prevailed  when 
she  stood  by  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the  horizon,  where 
the  forest  belt  was  drawn  darkly  against  the  brilliant  sky. 

Was  it  the  dance  of  the  northern  spirits  that  fastened  her  gaze 
—the  glitter  and  shiver  of  their  serried  spears — the  leaping  blaze 
of  their  soundless  artillery  ?  The  gorgeous  pageant  was  to  her  as 
f  it  had  not  been.  Her  thoughts  were  all  of  mortal  forms  and 
earthly  combats.  When  she  resumed  her  walk,  the  triumph  was 
nigher,  and  the  thin  lips  were  curled  hi  a  smile,  that  was  malig- 
nant in  its  sneer. 

The  shrewd,  common-sense  housekeeper  was  correct,  in  one 
sense,  when  she  decided  that  Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  not  in  her 
right  mind.'  One  thought, -one  scheme,  nurtured  ceaselessly  for 
twelve  years,  made  the  key-note  of  every  meditation,  the  lever  of 
every  action  ;  its  fulfillment,  anticipated  as  the  culmen  of  earthly 
hopes  and  desires — must  eventuate  in  the  insanity  or  monomania 
of  him  who  thus  plans  and  broods  and  craves.  This  unquiet 
spirit  had  possessed  Bessy  Hale's  body  since  her  husband's  mur- 
der— she  never  thought  or  spoke  of  it  as  anything  less  heinous. 
The  pitiless  treatment  of  herself  and  child  by  those  who  had 
courted  her  notice,  when  they  fancied  her  in  prosperous  circum- 
stances, had  augmented  this  morbid  resentment.  With  the  unex- 
pected, and  to  her,  almost  miraculous  change  in  her  position, 
began  the  growth  of  a  fatalism  that  looked  forward  to  the  retri- 
bution of  her  enemies  as  a  certain  thing.  First,  she  believed  that 
she  should  hear  of  it — perhaps  see  it ;  then,  as  one  .coincidence 
after  mother  was  brinpfmcf  her  back  to  the  stage  whereon  had 


NEMESIS.  439 

been  enacted  the  earlier  acts  of  the  tragedy,  the  conviction  stole 
npon  her,  awakening  a  shuddering  joy,  that  she  was  to  be  th« 
instrument  of  punishment — the  ordained  NEMESIS,  who  r-houlrl 
hurl  the  decreed  vengeance  upon  the  quaking,  guilty  souls  of  her 
former  persecutors. 

As  she  said  to  Miss  Barbara,  she  considered  that  she  had 
taken  no  active  part  in  the  work,  when,  in  reality,  her  hand 
had  put  in  motion  every  one  of  the  destructive  engines,  that  were 
weaving  iron  bauds  about  the  condemned.  But  for  her,  Sancroft 
the  elder  would  have  plundered  her  husband  with  impunity  and 
undamaged  respectability,  and  have  added  his  ill-gotten  gains  to 
his  hoards.  Had  she  encouraged,  or  even  permitted  the  primary 
stages  of  the  younger's  addresses  to  her  daughter,  his  disappoint- 
ment at  the  last,  and  his  hatred  of  his  apparently  equally  unsuc- 
cessful rival  might  have  been  less  rancorous.  She  had  ardently 
desired  and  secretly  forwarded  Malcolm's  suit  to  Katherine,  and 
it  was  with  a  perception  of  this,  that  Eleanor  withdrew  her  to 
Montrouge,  and  there  matured  the  plot,  to  whose  subtlety  the 
mother  already  held  the  clue — a  slender  thread,  it  is  true,  but 
which  her  prescient  eye  saw  growing  into  a  cord  the  entrapped 
criminals  should  vainly  endeavor  to  break.  But  for  her  the 
temptation  to  purloin  the  Sancroft  papers  would  not  have  existed 
and  but  for  her,  the  theft  would  never  have  been  suspected 
Her  husband's  growing  distrust  of  his  nephew' and  disinclination 
to  make  him  part  heir  of  his  fortune  was  her  work,  although  he 
did  not  dream  that  this  was  so,  and  she  was  only  partially  con- 
scious of  the  effect  of  her  cautions  and  innuendoes.  It  was  not  in 
her  nature  to  be  a  pasare  instrument,  even  in  the  grasp  of  the 
Destiny  she  professed  to  worship.  Work  she  must — work  she 
did — with  a  methodical,  unflagging,  unmerciful  purpose,  aud  a 
rill  that  never  needed  to  revert  to  past  grievances  for  stimulus. 

It  was  but  a  little  longer  waiting,  and  the  personal  liberty  and 
the  refutation  of  the  marked  ones  would  be  in  her  power — nay 


440  NEMESIS. 

this  was  virtually  the  case  now.  The  Bancrofts  had  commenced! 
the  game  proposed  by  the  younger — of  postponing  the  public  trial 
of  the  case  involving  the  honesty  of  the  father,  and  there  were 
easily  found  legal  quibbles  in  abundance  for  their  aid  in  the 
praiseworthy  scheme.  But  to  the  avenger,  it  was  a  shallow  arti- 
fice— a  cowardly  delay  of  the  day  which  must  overtake  them,  and 
why  not  soon,  as  well  as  late  ?  What  could  they  gain  by  this 
course  except  a  torturing  suspense  and  a  prejudgment  against 
them  in  the  minds  of  the  community  ?  The  Moreaus  participated 
in  the  disquiet  of  their  suspected  associates  ;  but  husband  and 
wife  bore  unequal  portions  of  the  burden.  Eleanor  was  mainly 
solicitous  lest  Mr.  Moreau's  past  intimacy  with  the  son,  and  hi> 
recommendation  of  the  father,  should  have  compromised  him  wit) 
his  uncle,  and  her  useless  regrets  and  chidings  of  him  for  error* 
committed  and  beyond  recall,  were  irritating  augmentations  o/ 
the  discomfort  he  suffered  by  day  and  night.  He  drank  mor^ 
deeplj  to  quiet  remorse  and  blunt  anticipation  ;  but  the  internal 
conflict — the  hidden  cancer — was  telling  upon  his  outward  appeal 
ance.  He  began  to  look  like  what  he  was — a  mean-spirited 
wretch,  cowering  beneath  the  menacing  consequences  of  his  evil 
deeds — a  caitiff,  who  had  neither  the  courage  to  confess,  the  forti- 
tude to  endure,  nor  the  cunning  to  escape.  Katherine  pitied;  his 
uncle  wondered;  his  wife  railed  at  and  ridiculed  his  altered  aspect 
and  behavior.  He  bore  all  these  exhibitions  of  feeling  better 
than  he  did  the  cool,  clear  ray  from  eyes  whose  meaning  he  alone 
understood,  and  dreaded  more  than  he  would  have  done  the  bale- 
ful glance  of  the  basilisk.  Nor  were  his  pecuniary  trials  lightened 
from  the  crushing  weight  beneath  which  he  had  crouched  for  so 
long.  At  this  period,  it  chanced,  unluckily,  that  Bancroft  way 
his  chief  creditor — the  holder  of  divers  notes  for  inconvenient 
Bums,  due  from  Robert  Moreau  to  William  Bancroft,  for  value 
"received  :"  nature  of  said  -'value"  not  specified,  as,  indeed,  was 
uot  to  be  expected  in  confidential  debts.  That  the  law  coultf 


NEMESIS.  441 

aot  oKige  him  to  defray  these  obligations,  if  the  circumstances 
under  which  they  were  incurred  was  stated,  so  far  from  releasing 
him  from  the  necessity  of  meeting  them,  was  an  added  terror 
Absurd  as  it  may  appear,  the  bauble  to  which  the 'poor  fool  clung 
most  pertinaciously — the,  in  his  case,  "  shadow  of  a  shade  "  ha 
feared  most  to  lose — was  his  fair  name  among  his  fellow-men.  The 
idea  of  gross  falsehood  and  downright  thieving,  did  not  appall  him, 
much  less  did  cheating  and  gaming  and  forgery,  but  the  wagging 
of  a  gossiping  tongue,  the  pointing  of  a  censorious  finger,  were 
to  him  like  a  scorpion-lash. 

All  this,  the  unwearied  watcher  and  thinker  appreciated  and 
reviewed  in  her  scornful  triumph  on  this  winter  night.  If  one, 
had  dared  to  urge,  in  compassion  to  this  one  of  her  intended  vic- 
tims, that  his  part  in  producing  her  humiliation  and  bereavement 
was  slight  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  others — his,  the  fault 
cf  thoughtless  and  unprincipled  gallantry,  while  theirs  was  a 
deliberate  and  malicious  plotting  of  her  downfall — she  would 
have  made  reply  that  he  was  eating  now  the  fruit  of  other  mis- 
deeds, unconnected  with  her  ;  and  that,  were  his  misery  indeed 
the  work  of  her  machinations,  he  could  not  be  spared  one  pang, 
since  through,  and  in  him,  was  the  chastisement  of  his  wife,  the 
principal  offender,  to  be  accomplished. 

Katherine  was  not  yet  able  to  join  the  family  at  the  breakfast- 
table.  She  was,  however,  up  and  dressed  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, when  her  mother  entered  with  a  request  from  Colonel 
Rashleigh  for  a  speedy  audience. 

From  the  hour  when,  as  her  mother's  newly-wedded  husband, 
he  took  her  upon  his  knee,  and  heard  her  acknowledge  him  as  her 
father,  his  love  for  the  child  of  his  adoption  had  struck  its  roots 
into  the  depths  of  his  nature.  The  recent  danger  to  her  life  had 
heightened  this  to  idolatry,  and  his  inquietude  on  her  account  was 
«till  so  great  as  to  be  a  serious  drawback  to  his  peace  of  miml 
and  the  comfort  of  liis  household.  With  tb^  pertinacity  of  age 

19* 


442  NEMESIS 

Ae  refused  lo  oelieve  that  she  was  mending  as  rapidly  as  sha 
ought  to  be.  It  was  of  no  avail  that  she  wore  her  brightest 
looks  during  his  visits  to  her  chamber,  and  when  she  was  carried 
downstairs,  chatted  cheerfully,  and  frequently  more  than  was 
easy  or  safe  for  her  to  attempt.  He  would  have  it  that  she  was 
at  a  stand-still  if  not  already  in  a  decline,  and  not  even  his  wife's 
arguments  could  alter  this  conviction, 

This  morning,  he  was  full  of  a  plan  concocted  between  himsel. 
and  the  family  physician  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  day's 
consultation.  Katherine  was  pining  for  change  of  air  and  scene. 
So  soon  as  she  was  adjudged  able  to  travel,  he  would,  with  her, 
proceed  by  easy  stages  to  Richmond,  and  from  thence  to  Charles- 
ton, to  take  vessel  for  Cuba.  She  should  see  tropical  fruits  and 
birds,  and  feel  tropical  sunshine  and  breezes.  Mrs.  Rashleigh, 
whose  health  and  inclination  alike  indisposed  her  for  the  tour,  was 
to  accompany  them  to  Richmond,  and,  after  a  visit  there,  return 
to  Briarwood,  while  Mrs.  Holt  continued  with  her  pupil. 

For  awhile,  extreme  amazement  hindered  Katherine  from  ex- 
pressing any  other  feeling  with  regard  to  the  proposal.  Then  she 
inquired,  with  a  touch  of  alarm,  if  they  thought  her  situation  so 
precarious  that  the  change  of  climate  was  necessary  for  the  pre- 
servation of  her  life. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  mother.  "We  believe  that  you 
would  recover  as  certamly  here,  but  more  slowly.  Your  papa 
has  planned  this  journey  and  voyage  for  this  season,  because  it 
would  be  unsafe  to  take  it  in  warmer  weather.  We  thought, 
moreover,  that  it  would  please  you." 

"  It  will,"  said  Katherine.  "  I  shall  enjoy  it  above  all 
other  things  that  could  be  proposed.  You  are  too  good, 
papa  !" 

Her  cheek  was  mantled  with  a  healthy  glow  ;  her  eye  had  a 
glad,  soft  light,  a^  she  put  her  hand  within  his.  He  was  grati 
fied  and  complacent  in  the  assurance  that  his  wisdom  exceeded 


NEMESIS.  443 

that  of  all  the  doctors  in  the  country — very  proud  of  his  scheme, 
and  very  fond  of  the  daughter,  who  entered  into  it  so  readily. 

"  But  you,  mauiina  ?"  continued  Katherine.  "  I  wish  you  irere 
not  to  be  left  behind.  You  will  be  lonely  here,  I  am  afraid." 

"  I  shall  not." 

She  moved  away,  not  willing  to  trust  herself  to  say  more.  Sh^ 
knew  with  whom  the  far  South  war  now  associated  in  Katherine's 
mind  and  that  hope  sprang  eagerly  forward  to  the  possibility  that 
their  projected  route  might  cross  that  of  another  traveller.  But 
the  mother  experienced  a  sudden  pain  at  the  momentary  forget- 
ful ness  of  herself,  in  the  child  whom  hei  cares  had  just  won  from 
the  jaws  of  death. 

Mrs.  Rashleigh's  secret  schemes  could  not  be  better  advanced 
zhan  by  the  temporary  absence  of  her  husband.  Young  Sancroft 
had  intimated  to  Mr.  Hammond  that  the  witnesses  they  had  sum- 
moned, could  not,  in  all  likelihood,  be  gathered  together,  or  the 
needful  papers  be  made  ready  before  the  March  term  of  the  court, 
and  the  materials  for  her  intended  explosion  could  be  collected 
better  when  there  was  no  one  at  home  who  had  the  right  to 
inquire  into  her  movements.  She  had  seldom  seen  the  Colonel  so 
bent  upon  a  project  of  his  own  manufacture,  and,  in  her  fatalistic 
>pirit,  she  believed  that  this  unforeseen  step  was  pregnant  with 
important  results,  bearing  upon  what  was  become  the  grand 
design  of  her  life.  Therefore,  she  did  not  interfere  or  amend, 
save  in  the  matter  of  her  remaining  at  home,  which  the  Colonel, 
however  reluctant  to  part  with  her,  was  at  length  convinced  was 
indispensable  for  the  right  conduct  of  his  affairs,  domestic  and 
tegal. 

He  ordered  the  carriage,  that  very  forenoon,  and  rode  to  Mr. 
Hammond's.  In  the  lawyer's  hands  he  deposited  his  will  which 
divided  his  estate  equally  between  his  wife  and  adopted  daughter, 
Katheriue  Rashleigh.  An  annuity  to  Mrs.  Holt  and  a  present 
to  each  of  the  English  servants  were  the  only  reservation  rVoil 


144  NEMESIS. 

these  bequests.  Mrs  Rashleigh  had  been  appointed  executrix, 
but  in  the  fresh  copy  which  Mr.  Hammond  was  instructed  to  pre 
pare,  Malcolm  Argyle  was  made  her  coadjutor.  A  power  of 
attorney  was  likewise  drawn  up,  authorizing  Mrs.  Rashleigh  to 
execute  bonds  and  sign  whatever  legal  instruments  she  deemed 
proper,  during  her  hushaud's  absence 

Mr.  Hammond  asked  no  questions.  He  only  suspended  his  pen 
for  an  instant  above  the  parchment,  as  he  reached  Katherine'j 
name. 

"  Adopted  daughter  1"  he  repeated,  as  if  doubtful  whether  he 
read  aright. 

"  Those  are  the  words,  sir  1"  But  the  Colonel  grew  purple 
and  coughed,  before  making  the  supplementary  remark — "I  wish 
to  be  explicit,  sir — to  leave  no  room  for  troublesome  litigation, 
while  it  is  also  my  desire  that  you  consider  this  a  confidential  dis- 
closure. She  is  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  daughter  by  a  former  marriage 
— a  circumstance  of  which  Miss  Rashleigh  is  herself  ignorant." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  !"  and  the  pen  went  on. 

"  Excuse  me,  Colonel  Rashleigh,"  the  lawyer  ventured  to  say, 
when  the  documents  were  ready  and  the  Colonel  was  on  his  feel 
to  depart.  "But  it  can  do  no  harm  to  come  to  a  full  and 
mutual  understanding  of  these  transactions.  You  herewith  " — 
touching  the  papers — "  invest  Mrs.  Rashleigh  with  unlimited 
authority  to  act  in  your  stead,  while  you  are  away — unlimited  ."' 

"  Well,  sir  !" 

The  Colonel  stood,  tightly  buttoned  up  in  his  furred  surtout— - 
very  stout  and  very  stiff. 

"  These  are  unusual  powers,  sir,  to  be  granted  to  any  one— 
particularly  a  lady,"  pursued  the  attorney. 

"  I  do  not  lose  sight  of  that  fact,  sir.  But  you  must  remem 
her  another,  which  you  cannot  have  failed  to  perceive — namely 
that  Mrs.  Rashleigh  is  a.u  uncommon  person,  sir-— a  very  re-ma* 
ka-bte  woman  1" 


NEMESIS.  445 

And  with  that,  the  old  gentleman  climbed  into  his  chariot,  an*1 
gave  orders  to  drive  home  by  way  of  Montrouge. 

It  was  but  courteous  to  Robert  and  his  wife,  whose  regard  foi 
himself  and  family  appeared  to  be  unmixed  with  interested 
motives — that  they  should  be  apprised  of  the  intended  journey 
They  were  both  at  home  ;  both  very  attentive  ;  very  agreeable  ; 
very  affectionate.  Both  concurred  heartily  in  pronouncing  his 
plan  delightful,  and  judicjous  beyond  all  praise  of  theirs,  and — 
the,  elate  Colonel  could  not  render  to  his  wife  any  intelligible 
account  of  the  precise  manner  of  its  happening — but  he  was  borne 
or  coaxed  on  to  that  pitch  of  benevolence,  that  he  invited  his 
nephew  and  niece  to  join  the  party  in  their  trip  to  the  metropo- 
lis ;  remain  there,  at  his  expense,  for  the  week  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh's 
stay,  and  then  take  charge  of  her  back  to  Briarwood — an  offer 
which  Eleanor  had  considerable  difficulty  in  accepting,  without  an 
unbecoming  show  of  rapture.  How  different  would  have  been 
her  emotions  had  she  known  that  it  was  a  salvo  to  an  uncom- 
fortable sensation  her  rich  connection  sustained  at  receiving  the 
overwhelming  attentions  of  herself  and  spouse,  while  reflecting 
that  he  had  just  sealed  an  act  cutting  them  off  from  all  possible 
future  benefit  from  his  wealth  ! 

The  Colonel's  high  good  humor  at  his  forenoon's  work  wa>» 
abated  by  Katherine's  palpable  chagrin,  and  her  mother's  silence, 
v/hen  he  communicated  the  proposition  he  had  made  to  the 
Moreaus,  and  its  reception.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  the  first  to 
reassure  him.  While  Katherine  shrank  from  a  renewal  of  inti- 
mate intercourse  with  her  cousins,  under  an  undefinable  impr 
that  all  had  not  been  right  between  them  in  the  past,  the  mother's 
second  thought  was  :  "  It  is  done  now,  and  objection  would  be 
worse  than  useless.  It  may  mean  something — may  accomplish 
pome  decreed  purpose." 

In  this  persuasion,  she  complimented  her  husband  upon 
hi*  liberality  to  his  relatives,  and  thanked  him  for  the  COD 


446  NEMESIS. 

operation  he  had  shown  for  her  comfort  in  providing  her  with 
an  escort. 

Katherine  was  too  honest  to  join  in  this  commendation  of 
a  step  that  promised  little  happiness  to  her.  She  confided  to 
Miss  Barbara,  who  came  at  her  summons  to  hear  and  wonder 
over  the  news,  that  this  was,  in  her  eyes,  the  most  objectionable 
feature  in  the  pleasure-trip. 

"  The  only  one,  I  may  say,  if  we  except  mamma's  refusal  to  go 
with  us.  Not  that  I  have  any  dislike  for  my  cousin  Robert  and 
Mrs.  Moreau,  but  you  understand  that  it  will  seem  less  like  a 
family  party  if  they  are  along.  And  it  is  natural,  since  we  are  to 
leave  mamma  behind,  that  we  should  prefer  to  pass  the  last  daya 
of  our  •  companionship  with  he$  by  ourselves,  unchecked  by  the 
presence  of  comparative  strangers." 

Miss  Barbara  did  understand,  better  than  Katherine  herself 
could,  why  mother  and  daughter  should  dread  the  entrance  of 
these  intruders  into  their  home-circle.  No  mortal  living  was 
more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Eleanor  than  she  was,  and  she 
had  a  conception  of  her  ability  and  influence  that  verged  upon 
absurd  exaggeration.  She  had  departed  from  her  rule  of  non- 
interference in  family  affairs,  so  far  as  to  hint  her  suspicions  of  this 
arch-strategist's  recent  manoeuvres,  in  a  letter  she  had  dispatched 
to  Malcolm,  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  her  hints  were  tantamount 
to  other  people's  broad  assertions.  With  Katherine,  she  could 
not  be  frank,  and  she  held  her  tongue.  The  southern  scheme 
sounded  to  her  like  sheer  nonsense,  and  while  questioning  the 
certainty  of  its  advantages  to  Katherine's  health,  she  had  her  owe 
reasons  for  deploring  the  Colonel's  resolution  to  remove  his 
daughter  from  the  neighborhood,  where  Malcolm,  on  his  return, 
would  expect  to  find  her.  That  he  would  come  back,  and  that 
sooner  than  he  had  anticipated  up  to  the  moment  of  perusing  her 
letter,  she  could  not  avoid  hoping  and  believing. 

But  Katherine  was  so  gay  and  animated  in  view  of  the  next 


K  E  M  E  S  I  8  .  441 

three  months,  so  confident  of  sympathy  from  every  one  to  whoit 
she  unfolded  ner  plans,  that  her  old  friend  was  sparing  of  hel 
expressed  discontent,  and  tried  to  work  off  her  rising  ill-humor  by 
energetic  assistance  in  the  laboring  department  of  Briarwood, 
ju>st  now  taxed  to  the  utmost  by  the  preparations  for  the  travel- 
lers. She  cut  out  and  wound  up  bundles  of  unmade  garments, 
which  she  engaged  should  be  finished  by  the  Ben  Lomond  scam- 
^tress,  Mrs.  Kashleigh  sitting  by  and  directing  how  this  and  that 
was  to  be  done,  so  gravely  ami  naturally,  that  Miss  Barbara 
recollected,  in  a  dream-like  mystification,  the  packages  of  home 
spun,  unbleached  muslin  and  liuseys,  which-  she  used  to  prepare 
<br  Bessy  Hale  to  take  home. 

By  the  middle  of  the  month  all  was  ready.  Kathcrine  had 
iutreated  that  her  faithful  nurse  should  spend  the  last  night  of  her 
stay  with  her  at  Briarwood  ;  should  sleep  in  her  room  upon  the 
little  bed  where  she  had  cast  herself  down  for  an  hour  of  light 
slumber,  overpowered  by  fatigue  and  drowsiness,  while  fever  was 
scorching  up  the  life  of  her  patient.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  seconded  the 
motion,  and  the  Colonel  had,  ere  this,  ceased  to  observe  upon 
"  the  extraordinary  fondness  "  of  his  daughter  for  this  "  well  dis 
posed  but  remarkably  eccentric  person." 

There  was  a  singular,  a  laughable  contrast  between  the  two, 
as  they  sat  over  the  fire  that  evening,  for  a  parting  talk  together. 
Miss  Barbara  was  in  her  short  night-gown,  without  ruffle  or  trim- 
ming of  any  description  ;  a  striped  petticoat,  blue  and  white, 
beneath  it  ;  her  grey  hair  tucked  away  under  a  cotton  cap,  with 
an  astonishing  border,  starched  and  crimped  ;  her  skirts  drawn 
back  from  the  square-toed  shoes  and  worsted  hose,  incasing  a 
pair  of  very  decided-looking  extremities  ;  and  that  nothing  might 
be  lacking  from  the  grotesque  yet  cozy  figure,  a  long-stemmed 
pipe  in  her  month.  Katheriue's  nerves  were  not  of  the  kind  that 
"cannot  endure  tobacco-smoke,"  while  their  delicate  owner  revHd 
nightly,  as  in  her  native  element,  in  a  heated  atmosphere,  with 


448  NEMESIS. 

hardly  enough  oxygen  in  it  to  afford  a  full  breath  for  one  pair  of 
healthy  lungs — the  happy  multitude  within  it  regaling  themselves 
with  laborious  inflations  of  nitrogen,  exquisitely  flavored  with 
Patchouli,  musk,  millefleurs  and — vilest,  most  suffocating-  of  all — 
Frangipanni. 

Miss  Barbara's  nightly  smoke  was  taken  at  the  urgent  instance 
f  her  young  hostess,  who  now  sat  watching  the  blue  rings  in 
their  slow  waltz  toward  the  fire-place,  where  they  broke  suddenly 
and  made  a  flying  leap  up -the  wide  mouth  of  the  chimney.  Her 
white  wrapper  was  edged  at  the  throat  and  wrists  by  dainty 
little  frills  ;  the  lace  border  of  her  cap  did  not  conceal  the  black 
tresses  which  had  happily  not  been  destroyed  by  the  fever,  and 
around  her  shoulders  she  wore,  with  negligent  grace,  a  scarlet 
shawl.  The  fresh  color  had  forsaken  her  face,  and  with  it  much 
of  the  piquant  archness  that  once  gave  it  its  peculiar  character  ; 
but  languor  and  pensiveness  endowed  her  with  new,  and  perhapfc 
greater  loveliness. 

"  I  have  been  restless  for  the  arrival  of  to-morrow,  and  now, 
that  it  is  so  near,  I  would  put  it  off  if  I  could,"  she  said 
"  Why  is  this,  Miss  Barbara  ?  Can  it  be  a  presentiment  of  evil  T 

"  Everybody  feels  so,  more  or  less,  just  before  settin'  out  on  i 
journey.  I  always  used  to  in  my  travellin'  days." 

"  Did  you  ever  travel  much  ?" 

"  I  came  from  Hanover  here,  and  I  went  over  the  mountains 
once,  to  see  my  sister — stayed  nigh  upon  two  months." 

She  puffed  very  fast. 

"  And  did  you  feel  then  as  I  do  now  ?  did  a  dread  hang  over 
you — a  sinking  of  spirit  and  a  clinging  to  home,  as  the  one  safe 
epot  upon  earth  ?" 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  Did  sorrow  come  from 'that  journey  ?" 

"  Indeed  there  did  !  My  sister  died  while  I  was  there,  aud- 
[  lost  another  friend  near  the  same  time." 


NEMESIS.  449 

Katherine  left  a  subject  which  she  saw  was  saddening. 

"  This  is  the  15th.  We  shall  be  in  Richmond  by  the  20th. 
I  own  to  a  little  curiosity  to  see  something  of  town-life  in  this 
land.  Have  you  ever  been  there  ?" 

"  Once,  forty  years  ago.  Places  change  in  that  time  as  much 
as  people's  faces." 

"  It  is  a  long  time.  Shall  I,  too,  live  to  say,  to  some  young 
girl,  '  I  saw  such  and  such  a  thing  forty  years  ago  ?'  " 

"I  hope  so.  If  the  Lord  wills,  you  may.  None  of  us  can 
tell  what  a  day  may  bring  forth." 

"  True  !  young  as  I  am,  I  have  realized,  to  some  extent,  th« 
uncertainty  of  earthly  things.  But  this  is  solemn  talk  !  It 
depresses  me.  I  wanted  to  try  to  tell  you  how  grateful  I  am  foi 
your  unbounded  kindness — for  saving  my  life  ?  It  is  not 
worth  much  to  me,  or  to  any  one  else,  but  it  is  all  the  life  I 
have." 

"  Don't  talk  that  way,  dear  1"  said  Miss  Barbara,  as  the  girl 
tried  to  laugh — her  glistening  eye  belying  the  pretense  of  mirth. 
"  It  is  the  most  precious  gift  the  Almighty  can  continue  to  an 
immortal  soul  that  is  out  of  Christ — the  life  of  the  poor  body. 
For,  while  that  lasts,  there  is  a  chance  of  salvation.  Don't  ge< 
into  the  habit  of  treating  death  lightly.  It's  worse  than  foolisii 
—it's  sinful  I" 

"  I  have  prayed  for  its  coming  in  times  past,"  said  Katherine 
in  a  low,  sad  voice. 

"  No,  you  haven't !" 

"  Miss  Barbara  !" 

"  I  say  you  haven't !  You  thought  you  did,  and  that  because 
rou  were  unhappy,  you  were  tired  of  living,  but  if  death  had 
seized  you  at  that  very  minute,  you'd  have  fought  with  him,  and 
cried  out  for  your  sweet  life.  Depend  upon  it,  dear,  we  ought  to 
return  thanks  to  the  Lord,  every  day,  that  he  don't  answer  mo*i 
of  our  hasty  prayers." 


450  N.E  M  E  8  I  8 

"It  may  be  so.  1  wish — how  I  wish,  you  would  teach  mo 
your  contented  faith,  Miss  Barbara.  I  meant  to  be  your  scholar 
this  winter,  and  here  am  I  whisked  off  to  the  South  Pole,  before 
I  can  take  a  single  lesson.  Heigho  !" 

"  The  right  teacher  is  with  you  everywhere." 

"  But  how  can  I  know  him  ?  You  will  think  me  a  heathen,  1 
am  afraid  ;  but  if  you  only  knew  how  I  reach  and  yearn  fof 
some  solid  resting-place,  not  so  much  for  my  faith  as  for  my 
heart  !  It  is  a  hard,  cruel  thought,  that  I  have  tasted  all  the 
sweetness  in  the  cup  of  existence  at  seventeen.  I  am  not  eight- 
een yet — did  you  know  that  ?" 

"  You  look  older  than  you  are." 

"  Do  I  not  ?  This  sickness  has  added  ten  years  to  my  age.  1 
*m  approaching  middle-life — am  but  a  trifle  on  the  sunny  side  of 
thirty." 

Miss  Barbara  removed  her  pipe  to  laugh.  "  You  are  a  child, 
nothing  else,  and  I  trust  there  are  many  bright  spots  in  this  life 
for  you.  But,  honey,  maybe  we  shall  not  meet  again  on  this 
side  the  grave.  I'm  growin'  old,  and  none  of  us  can  tell  in  what 
watch  the  Master  will  call.  I  want  to  say  a  thing  or  two  before 
we  part.  I  didn't  come  to  you  first  because  I  loved  you  ;  but 
T  had  made  a  promise  that  I'd  serve  you,  if  you  ever  needed  me." 

The  rich  color  rushed  to  Katherine's  face,  and  her  breath  was 
quick  and  fluttering. 

"  We've  never  called  his  name,  dear,  and  tisn't  best  we  should. 
Because  I  had  give  him  my  promise,  I  came  to  nurse  you,  and 
because  I  knew  he  would  like  to  have  me  do  it,  I  stayed  and 
tended  you  as  long  as  I  did.  Now,  I  love  you  for  your  own 
»ake,  and" 

"  A.nd  for  what  other  reason,  were  you  going  t)  say  ?" 

"  "Never  mind  !" 

Miss  Barbara  got  up  briskly  and  laid  her  pipe  upon  th« 
mantel 


N  K  M  E  S  I  8  451 

"  Better  put  this  window  up  an  inch  or  so,  until  the  smoke  is 
out  !"  she  said,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

"Why  did  you  st< p  so  abruptly?"  questioned  Katherin* 
curiously. 

"  No  matter  !  Only,  dear,"  laying  her  hand  solemnly  upon 
the  noble  young  head,  "  wherever  you  go,  remember  that  the 
prayers  of  the  righteous  avail  much,  and  there's  been  many  of 
the  right  sort  sent  up  for  you,  about  which  you've  never  heard — 
more  shame  that  it  is  so  !"  she  muttered,  aside. 

"  Were  they  you. 

"  I  always  name  you  in  my  poor  prayers,  but  'twasn't  them  I 
gpoke  of." 

"Whose,  then?" 

But  Miss  Barbara  ordered  her  squarely  to  bed,  and,  inflexibly 
(^satisfactory,  betook  herself  :o  her  own  couch 


452  NEMESIS. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

MRS.  M  KEAF  enjoyed  a  holiday.  The  desire  to  be  tmtram 
melled  during  her  visit  to  the  capital,  wrought  with  prudentia, 
considerations  of  the  risks  to  children  in  winter  travel,  and 
induced  her  to  leave  them  at  Montrouge  in  care  of  Sarah.  Even 
baby  Nelly  could  now  bear  the  separation  without  physical 
inconvenience,  and  although  her  father  besought  that  she  might 
go  with  them,  the  mother's  fiat  was  not  revoked. 

This  preliminary  squabble-conjugal  was,  possibly,  one  cause  o( 
the  vast  disproportion  in  the  elevation  of  their  spirits  on  the 
way,  and  after  they  took  possession  of  their  quarters  in  town, 
Eleanor  had  never  been  more  brilliantly  careless,  more  sparkling 
in  countenance  and  conversation.  The  Colonel  was  temporarily 
fascinated  ;  Katherine  forgot  her  vague  distrust ;  Mrs.  Rashleigh 
remained  immovable.  Mr.  Moreau  was  miserably  uneasy  in  the 
company  of  his  step-aunt,  although,  from  her  demeanor,  one 
would  have  imagined  her  profoundly  indifferent  to  him.  He  was 
not  the  person  to  interest  a  sober,  thoughtful  woman,  serious  to 
severity,  who  seemed  to  have  lost  all  taste  for  frivolous  talk  and 
badinage,  if  she  had  ever  affected  anything  so  trifling. 

' '  I  don't  ask  you  to  say  clever  things  to  her  !"  said  Eleanor, 
in  one  of  her  wifely  tirades  upon  a  style  of  behavior  that  annojed 
her  excessively.  "  What  you  cannot  think,  you  cannot  say,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  But  you  were  bred  a  gentleman,  and  need 
not  act  like  a  bashful  clown,  even  in  the  presence  of  my  La-*y 
Lofty  She  carries  herself  as  grandly  with  me — :and  what  dt  I 


N  E  M  K  S  I  8  453 

fur  it  ?  The  Argyles  are  of  as  good  blood  as  auy  that  runs 
In  her  veins.  Jf  she  belonged  to  the  royal  family,  you  could  not 
be  more  afraid  of  her." 

Mr.  Mor-au  heaved  a  mighty  sigh  ;  but  dared  not  unclose  hia 
lips,  for  feur  of  saying  something  that  might  compromise  him. 
To  his  unspeakable  relief,  his  uncle  rapped  at  the  door. 

"  Robert !  I  am  going  out  to  walk.  Will  you  come  with 
me?" 

The  conscience-haunted  husband  snatched  his  hat,  and  follower 
in  a  twinkling. 

The  tavern — there  were  no  hotels  hi  Virginia,  at  that  day — 
was  a  very  dissimilar  affair  from  the  mountainous  structures  of 
brick,  granite,  iron  and  plate-glass,  that  now  number  their  shifts 
mg  population  by  the  hundred.  A  substantial,  respectable  build- 
ing, it  only  challenged  the  notice  of  the  traveller  by  its  superior 
size  to  the  surrounding  houses,  and  its  spacious  entrance.  The 
proprietor  had  his  residence  within  it,  and  exercised  unceasing 
supervision  over  every  department,  without  betraying  one  symp- 
tom of  the  active,  bustling  Boniface,  one  is  accustomed  to  picture 
to  himself  at  mention  of  a  public  house  in  the  olden  time.  He 
presided  at  one  of  the  bountiful  tables,  in  the  dining-hall,  paying 
especial  attention  to  his  lady  guests,  and  in  the  interim  of  his 
professional  duties,  chatted  with  them  hi  the  parlor,  or  with  their 
fathers,  husbands,  and  brothers,  in  the  passages,  and  on  the  front 
steps — everywhere,  and  to  all,  the  courteous  and  intelligent 
gentleman.  For  gentlemen,  by  birth  and  education,  were  not 
ashamed  to  "keep  tavern"  then.  The  honorable  or  the  ignoble 
nature  of  the  profession  depended  upon  the  character  of  the 
house  and  its  master. 

Katherine,  with  her  mother  and  Mrs.  Holt,  was  in  the  private 
parlor  of  the  party — an  unusual  requirement  in  the  establishment, 
•and  one  that  marked  the  English  boarders  as  exclusiyes.  It 
overlooked  the  street,  and  the  yonng  girl  sat  at  the  window, 


154  NEMESIS, 

amusing  her  companions  with  playful  remarks  upon  the  passers 
by.  Her  father  stopped,  as  he  went  downstairs,  to  inquire  ai 
what  hour  he  should  order  the  carriage  for  her  morning  drive. 
The  day  was  sunny,  and  not  cold,  and  he  advised  that  the  airiug 
should  be  prolonged  until  prudence  warned  them  to  return  home, 

Rejoining  his  nephew,  he  marched  out  into  the  open  air,  with  a 
traveller's  alertness  to  go  everywhere  and  see  everything  note- 
worthy in  the  place.  He  condescended  to  praise  the  natural 
advantages  of  the  town  ;  but  "  feared  that  many  years  must 
elapse  before  it  would  attain  to  any  eminence  as  a  symmetrical  or 
thriving  city."  Moreau  spoke  a  word  for  its  warehouses  and 
water-power,  but  his  uncle's  contempt  for  everything  that  savored 
of  pretension  hi  the  "pretty  village"  he  patron ^ed,  was  so 
apparent,  that  he  yielded  the  point. 

As  they  passed  another  tavern,  made  conspicuous,  by  a  swing- 
ing sign,  with  a  bell  painted  thereupon,  a  couple  of  gentlemen 
stepped  out  of  the  door  to  the  sidewalk,  and  halted,  ia  feigned  OJ 
real  surprise.  They  were  the  younger  Bancroft  and  hi*  friend,  Mi 
Woodson.  Salutations  were  exchanged  ;  the  Colonel  speaking, 
to  the  latter  in  a  friendly,  to  the  former,  in  a  polite  manner. 

"  This  is  an  unlooked-for  treat,  sir,"  said  Mr  Woodsoi* 
blandly.  "  When  did  you  arrive  ?" 

"  The  day  before  yesterday,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  Mr.  Bancroft  and  myself  last  night.  What  have  yon 
seen  that  interested  you  in  the  Capitol  of  our  Old  Dominion  ?" 
pursued  Mr.  Woodson,  walking  on  with  the  Colonel,  while  the 
narrow  pavement  compelled  Mr.  Moreau  to  fall  into  the  rear 
with  Bancroft. 

The  Colonel  admitted  that,  thus  far,  he  had  not  found  many 
»triking  objects  for  observation  or  thought  to  feast  upoa. 

"  Have  you  been  into  our  halls  of  Legislation  ?" 

"  I  have  not.  Is  there  a  fine  display  of  talenl  there,  thil 
winter  ?" 


N  K  M  E  6  I  8  .  45£ 

"There  was  never  more.  The  houses  aie  in  session  at  this 
floor.  If  you  hare  no  other  engagement,  you  may  derive  some 
pleasure  i'roin  a  visit  to  them.  What  do  you  say  to  retracing 
our  st 

"I  should  be  pk-a>.  (;  to  hear  the  debates.  Mr.  Randolph 
will  be  there,  I  pre.Mime  ?'' 

"  Jle  is  in  our  National  Congress — not  in  the  State  Legislature.' 

"  Ah  I  I  continually  confound  the  two — which  are  no  more 
identical  than  our  British  Houses  of  Commons  and  Lords." 

Mr.  Woodsou  did  not  rectify  this  self-correction.  If  it 
satisfied  its  author,  it  did  not  concern  him. 

•'  Mr.  Randolph  made  a  inaghificent  speech  in  Congress  last 
mouth  upon  the  war  question.  You  heard  him  during  his  sum 
HUTS  campaign,  I  think,  Colonel  Rashleigh  ?" 

"  I  did.  He  is  a  re-mar-ka-ble  orator,  sir  !  I  cannot  suppose 
that  this  new  country  contains  such  another.  Why,  sir,  ho 
would  shine  in  the  British  Parliament  !'' 

They  were  now  opposite  "  the  Eagle,"  where  the  Rashleighs 
were  sojourning,  and  the  carriage  and  four  at  the  door  had 
attracted  a  group  of  loungers,  whose  admiring  inspection  of  the 
fine  horses  was  highly  flattering  to  the  Colonel.  As  Mr.  Wood 
son  passed  his  encomium  upou  the  splendid  leaders,  Mrs.  Rash- 
leigh, Eleanor,  Mrs.  Holt  and  Katherine,  emerged  from  the 
house,  and  were  handed  into  the  chariot  by  liveried  Thomas  on 
one  side,  and  the  suave  landlord  on  the  other.  The  Colonel 
lifted  his  hat.  with  the  deferential  gallantry  belonging  to  hia 
character  and  generation,  and  his  heart  grew  bigger  at  the 
recollection  of  his  proprietorship  in  the  two  elegant  women,  who 
shared  the  unspoken,  yet  evident  applause  of  the  beholders. 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  proud  and  a  happy  man,  Colonel  Rash 
leigh  !''  said  the  quick-witted  Woodsou. 

The  old  officer's  heavy  physiognomy  was  illuminated  by  a 
heart -beam  that  redeemed  it  from  homeliness. 


456  NEMESIS. 

"  I  am,  sii'.  No  man  living  has  more  cause  to  be  thankful  tc 
the  Divine  Giver  than  I  have." 

The  visit  to  the  legislative  bodies  brought  the  promised  enter 
tainment  of  good  speeches,  and  a  pleasant  surprise,  which  the 
English  gentleman  enjoyed  far  more,  in  the  form  of  a  meeting 
with  an  old  friend  and  fellow-countryman,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
before  in  thirty  years.  This  friend,  Mr.  Wickham,  had  emigrated 
to  America  whife  comparatively  a  young  man,  and  settled  hi  Vir- 
ginia. Happening,  on  this  forenoon,  to  be  in  the  State  Assembly, 
he  noticed  Colonel  Rashleigh,  and  inquired  who  he  was.  The 
answer  awakened  a  suspicion  that  it  was  his  former  acquaintance, 
ind  he  forthwith  introduced  himself.  The  two  had  a  long  and 
deeply  interesting  conversation,  broken  off  by  the  approach  of 
the  dinuer-hour. 

Mr.  Moreau  had  excused  himself  with  the  threadbare  plea  ot 
*  business  " — with  whom  or  where,  he  was  sure  his  uncle  would 
not  inquire.  He  rejoined  the  family  party,  just  as  the  Colonel  was 
relating  the  story  of  his  fortunate  rencontre  with  Mr.  Wickham, 
<?ho  had  walked  with  him  to  the  door  of  the  tavern,  and  requested 
permission  to  wait  upon  the  ladies,  with  his  wife,  next  day. 

"  Papa,"  said  Katherine,  thoughtlessly,  "  was  not  that  Mr. 
V^oodson  with  you,  this  morning  ?" 

"  It  was,  my  daughter.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  I  do  not  like  him.  I  never  did,"  returned  the  petted  child. 
''  And,  as  I  stood  on  the  steps,  waiting  until  the  others  got  into 
&e  carriage,  I  heard  one  gentleman  say  to  another,  '  What  is 
Colonel  Rashleigh  doing  in  that  fellow's  company  ?  He  was 
once  a  common  gambler  about  town,  and  follows  the  same  trade 
DOW  in  the  country  !'  " 

'.'  A  gambler  !"  cntd  the  Colonel,  in  anger  and  dismay.  "  Cau 
this  be  true,  Robert  ?  What  do  you  say  to  this  tale  ?" 

Mr.  Moreau's  tongue  was  glued  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth 
Eleanor  put  on  an  air  of  shocked  virtue 


K  E  M  E  S  I  8 .  457 

11  What  a  consummate  hypocrite  he  must  be,  if  that  is  his  real 
Easiness  !  But  no,  it  is  ridiculous  1  We  should  surely  have 
heard  some  whisper  of  it  in  all  these  months  that  he  has  lived 
near  us!  You  have  never  seen  any  thing -suspicious  in  his  COP 
duct — have  you,  my  dear  ?" 

"  N-n-n-o,"  said  Mr.  Moreau. 

''  It  is  a  matter  of  small  moment  to  us  whether  the  story  be 
true  or  false,"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh  ;  "  Mr.  Woodson  has  never 
been  on  intimate  terms  in  our  family.  He  has  been  invited  to 
Briarwood  but  once." 

"  He  is  Robert's  friend,"  urged  the  Colonel,  not  pacified  by  this 
dismissal  of  the  subject.  "  You  introduced  him  to  me  as  such, 
sir,  and  I  have  regarded  liim  as  an  honest  gentleman,  when  I 
would  have  repudiated  the  acquaintance  if  I  had  known  of  this 
*tigma  upon  his  character.  I  have  rendered  myself  the  object  of 
common  talk  by  apparent  intimacy  with  him.  I  have  invited 
him  to  my  house  ;  he  has  sat  down  at  my  table  with  my  wife  and 
daughter.  1  am  exceedingly  displeased  !  This  is  a  very  re-mar- 
ka-ble  occurrence,  Mr.  Moreau  !" 

His  wrath  stifled  the  words  ;  he  could  only  gasp  and  strut 
about  the  apartment,  in  such  a  state  of  agitation  as  terrified  his 
nephew  out  of  the  scanty  measure  of  wit  conscious  guilt  had  left 
him. 

11  But  papa  " began  Katherine's  soft  accents. 

Her  mother  interrupted  her.  "  You  are  exciting  yourself 
upon  insufficient  grounds,  Colonel  Rashleigh."  It  was  an  order 
rather  than  an  expostulation.  "  Would  it  not  be  well,  before 
condemning  the  man,  to  have  stronger  evidence  than  the  carelesn 
speech  of  a  stranger — casually,  and  probably  imperfectly  over- 
heard in  a  public  place  ?  Would  not  this  be  in  better  keeping 
with  your  usual  conduct  ?  You  are  not  apt  to  be  so  hasty  in 
.your  judgment." 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  as  she  reminded  him  that  the 

20 


458  NEMESIS. 

dinner-bell  had  .iTing,  Ere  the  dining-room  was  reached,  he  had 
regained  his  self-control,  and  apologized  handsomely  to  hia 
nephew  for  his  unwarrantable  heat,  before  the  first  course  waa 
through. 

"  But  this  is  a  tender  point  with  me,  Robert ;  my  younge8t 
brother — the  uncle  for  whom  you  were  named — was  the  means 
of  teaching  me  a  lesson  on  gaming  !  I  hate  the  very  name  of  a 
dice-box  or  a  card.  If  I  were  a  king  or  a  law-giver,  I  would 
make  all  games  of  chance  punishable  with  death  1  Upon  my 
soul  I  would  I" 

"  Be  quiet !"  whispered  his  wife.     "  You  attract  attention." 

As  was  to  be  expected,  when  the  fall  of  his  fist  on  the  table 
made  the  plates  dance  and  the  glasses  ring  for  some  distance  on 
both  sides  of  him.  Katherine  repented  sorely  of  her  imprudent 
remark.  Her  cousins  were  wounded;  Mrs.  Moreau  offended,  for 
the  most  skillful  and  assiduous  attention  could  not  win  a  look  01 
smile  from  her  all  dinner-time.  How  rude  and  unprovoked  had 
been  her  animadversion  upon  one  whom  Mr.  Moreau  knew  and 
she  did  not !  How  unkind  and  inhospitable  in  her  to  incite  th< 
Colonel  to  attack  the  nephew,  who  looked  up  to  him  as  to  a  father) 

In  the  sincerity  of  her  contrition,  she  followed  Mr.  Moreau 
when  he  quitted  the  parlor  after  dinner,  and  overtook  him  in  the 
entry. 

"  Cousin  Robert,  I  must  say  to  you  how  sorry  I  am  for  my 
inconsiderate — my  unfeeling  gossip  about  your  friend,  Mr.  Wood- 
pun.  " 

"  Don't  call  him  my  friend,  Katherine  He  is  anything  but 
that !» 

"  You  are  angry  with  me,  and  you  have  a  right  to  be,"  con- 
tinued Kathcriue,  yet  more  humbly,  for  he  was  gruff  to  surliness. 
"  I  ought  to  have  known  papa's  abhorrence  of  a  gamester  better 
than  to  have  suggested  the  remotest  possibility  of  his  having 
associated  with  one.  It  was  too  bad  that  you  should  have  bom« 


NEMESIS.  459 

the  brunt  of  the  punishment  I  merited  bj  my  meddling  tongue. 
You  must  not  mind  papa  when  he  gets  excited.  He  always 
speaks  out  in  that  way.  You  saw  how  ready  he  was  to  explain 
his  laiiiruajre  when  he  cooled  down.  He  is  a  sensible  man,  and 
cannot  but  perceive  the  injustice  of  holding  you  responsible  foi 
the  character  of  every  one  whom  you  introduce  to  him  in  a  crowd 
like  that  in  which  he  first  met  this  Mr.  Woodson.  You  will  for- 
get his  hasty  censure  and  my  foolish  babbling — will  you  not,  my 
dear  cousin  ?" 

Her  beseeching,  winning  look  was  so  charming  that  Moreau 
could  not  withstand  it. 

"  You  are  a  noble  girl,  Katherine  !"  he  exclaimed — "  a  perfect 
angel,  to  talk  to  me  so  sweetly  after  " 

"  After  what  ?  After  your  unfailing  kindness  to  me  ?  I  would 
fa  very  ungrateful  to  forget  that  I  have  never  received  a  cross 
word  or  a  frown  from  you.  You  are  the  most  gallant  and 
imiable  of  cousins.  I  am  not  so  rich  in  friends  as  to  make  me 
liable  to  overlook  one  whose  good  will  I  have  never  had  cause  to 
doubt." 

Moreau  hung  his  head.  Glancing  furtively  toward  the  room 
where  they  had  left  his  wife,  he  asked,  in  a  half  whisper  : 

"  Katherine,  did  you  really  care  for  Argyle,  or  was  it,  as  she 
said,  nothing  but  a  fancy  ?" 

"  Who  is  .'  she  ?' "  Katherine  fell  back  a  few  paces,  and  grew 
paler. 

'.'In  there,"  pointing  to  the  parlor.  "You  thought  Argyle 
wrote  that  letter  to  her — didn't  you  ?" 

"  And  if  he  did  not,  who  did?"  demanded  the  girl,  breathlessly. 

A  hand  was  laid  upon  the  lock  of  the  door  near  by  ;  Mrs. 
Moreau's  voice  sounded  louder,  and  while  she  paused  to  finish 
a  last  observation  to  some  one  within,  ignorant  of  the  dangeroui 
parley  without,  Moreau  darted  down  a  side-passage,  and  Kalhe 
r\n<>  ur!.  Tired  herself  to  her  room,  which  was  not  far  off. 


toO  N  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

At  the  so  ual  family  tea  in  the  sitting-room,  she  was  quiet  and 
heavy-eyed  ;  but  it  seemed  the  quiet  of  absorbing  thought,  not 
unhappiness,  and  if  her  smile  were  less  frequent,  it  had  a  gentle, 
spontaneous  beam,  the  more  perceptible  to  the  mother's  eye 
because,  of  late,  her  show  of  spirits  had  depended  so  much  upon 
the  auxiliary — Will.  These  symptoms  of  radical  amendment 
were  lost  upon  the  mole-eyed  Colonel ;  nor  had  Eleanor  any  just 
understanding  of  the  change,  which,  from  that  evening,  was  mani- 
fest in  her  young  cousin.  When  the  evidences  of  this  became 
apparent  in  her  lighter,  brisker  step  and  increase  of  appetite,  her 
father  talked  largely  of  the  wonderful  and  instantaneous  effects 
of  his  prescription,  while  Katherine's  laugh  and  blush  left  him  in 
the  enjoyment  of  his  theory. 

It  would  be  going  too  far  to  sayjthat  she  was  happy — although, 
in  the  delightful  relief  afforded  by  Moreau's  insinuation,  she  waa 
ready,  for  a  while,  to  believe  herself  so.  With  the  credulity  and 
.precipitancy  of  youth,  she  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the  note 
exhibited  to  her  by  Malcolm's  sister  was  a  successful  forgery;  nor 
was  she  backward  in  imputing  'the  deed  to  William  Bancroft. 
She  had  been  blinded  by  shame  and  resentment,  not  to  have 
detected  this  in  reading  it  over.  The  handwriting  was  an  exact 
imitation,  but  the  style,  rambling,  obscure — alternately  mawkish 
and  selfish  ;  how  could  she  have  been  so  egregiously  duped  ? 
But  the  Moreaus — what  was  the  extent  of  their  complicity  ?  At 
this  hard  knot  she  worked  with  growing  perplexity.  She  recol- 
lected the  circumstance  of  Sarah's  bringing  in  the  letter  and 
giving  it  to  Mrs.  Moreau,  with  the  words,  "  From  Master  Mal- 
colm." Would  the  faithful  servant  be  a  party  to  a  deception 
upon  her  mistress  ?  Was  it  not  more  likely  that  since,  by  the 
husband's  own  admission,  he  was  cognizant  of,  if  not  accessory 
to,  the  deception,  the  more  intelligent  wife  also  connived  at  the 
cunning  trick  ?  And  here  started  up  a  nonplus — What  was  she 
k>  gain  by  the  heartless,  wicked  device  ?  That  Sancroft  ruled 


NEMESIS.  461 

his  luckless  crony  with  a  bit  of  steel  and  rod  of  iron,  Kathrrine 
had  learned  to  suspect  from  her  mother's  hints  and  what  she  had 
herself  seen  and  heard  But  Mrs.  Moreau's  allegiance  to  her  lord 
and  master  was  not  so  absolute  as  to  involve  her,  of  necessity,  iii 
hts  schemes.  She  had  professed  a  warm  attachment  to  her 
cousin-guest,  and,  irrespective  of  this  feeling,  it  appeared  but 
reasonable,  when  viewed  from  a  worldly  stand-point,  that  she 
should  be  gratified  by  her  brother's  alliance  with  the  heiress  of 
her  husband's  wealthy  uncle. 

These  were  the  pros  and  cons  that  hindered  the  equilibrium  of 
Katheriue's  judgment — that  followed  her  wherever  she  went,  an6 
visited  her  pillow  at  midnight.  There  was  but  one  certain  method 
of  exorcising  them,  and  that  was  by  holding  up  between  herself 
and  the  troublers  the  blessed  conviction  of  Malcolm's  true,  dis- 
interested love — the  acquittal  of  her  now  stainless  knight  from 
the  accusations  his  unprincipled  rival  had  arrayed  against  him  ID 
her  mind.  The  tale  of  his  early  engagement,  that  had  enveloped 
her  life  in  cloud,  was  now  the  flimsiest  of  distant  mists — a  boyish 
mistake,  that  had  tended,  in  no  degree,  to  depreciate  the  value 
of  the  man's  devotion.  He  had  loved  her,  and  had  sought  in  her 
n Section  for  happiness — not  oblivion  !  If  the  tears  flowed  with 
the  memory  of  her  cruel  rejection  and  more  cruel,  although 
veiled,  taunts  of  unequal  bargains  in  the  sale  or  exchange  of 
hearts,  the  sunshine  broke  out  again  in  that  peace-giving  thought: 
"  She  was  loved,  even  as  she  loved  1"  Toward  the  Future  she 
gazed  with  trembling,  delicious  hope  of  explanation  and  recon- 
ciliation. She  could  not  discern  clearly  in  what  way  this  waa 
to  be  accomplished,  fettered  as  she  was  by  her  nice  sense  of  the 
binding  promise  of  secrecy  she  had  given  Mrs.  Moreau.  But  come 
it  would  !  Such  faith  was  engendered  by  the  knowledge  of  theil 
reciprocal  affection — such  patience  had  her  mettled  spirit  learned 
from  the  tedious  probation  of  silent  suffering. 

This  heroic  submission  to  what  was  inevitable,  and  this  cheer 


402  NEMESIS. 

fill  constancy  of  hope,  were  the  father's  legacy  to  his  child.  Then 
was  no  sign  of  either  in  the  stern  satisfaction — the  gloomy  joy — 
with  which  the  mother  watched  the  march  of  the  Destiny  that  was 
to  make  the  day  )f  doom  to  her  foes  the  season  of  her  glorious 
triamph. 


B  K  M  K  8  I  ». 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MBS.  KASHLEIGH'S  chamber  opened  into  the  common  sitting 
room  on  one  side  ;  Katherine's  adjoined  it  on  the  other.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Moreau  occupied  an  apartment  on  the  same^  floor,  but 
in  another  wing  of  the  building  ;  an  arrangement  that  afforded 
facilities  for  the  lady's  favorite  and  harmless  habit  of  hectoring 
lier  worse  half.  Her  proficiency  in  the  art  had  been  acquired 
by  diligent  practice  ;  but  never  in  the  whole  previous  course  of 
her  married  life  had  he  furnished  her  with  so  many  available  texts 
as  within  the  last  week.  He  remembered  her  criticisms  and 
injunctions  no  longer  than  it  took  her  to  bestow  them  upon  him. 
ll>'  was  stupid  and  moody  and  irascible  ;  as  she  summed  up  his 
perversities — "  contrary  as  a  mule  !" 

The  Rashleighs  had  a  Christmas  dinner  served  in  their  parlor  ; 
very  English  in  its  appointments  ;  and  eaten  two  hours  after 
the  public  meal  of  the  same  name  was  digested  by  republican 
gastric  organs.  It  was  a  stately,  formal  repast,  brightened  only  by 
Katherine's  smiles  and  Mrs.  Moreau's  Ion  mots,  and  washed  down 
with  a  solemn  glass  of  full-bodied  port.  Mr.  Moreau's  was  the 
most  lugubrious  visage  at  the  board,  and  it  was  plain  that  the 
quiet  entertainment  was  ill  to  his  liking,  for,  when  the  table  waa 
removed  and  the  family  drew  up  around  the  fire,  he  obtained 
icave  of  absence  "  to  smoke  one  cigar,"  Mrs.  Rashleigh  disliking 
tobacco,  and  did  not  show  himself  among  them  again  that  even- 
ing. 

Mrs.  Moreau  was  more  than  annoyed.     She  was  exasperated 


464  NEMESIS. 

against  the  partno;  she  had  engaged  to  "love,  honor  and  obey." 
He  needed  a  thorough  "  going  over,"  a  regular  "  bringing  to, 
both  of  which  duties  she  sat  up  to  perform  that  very  night.  A 
grand  design  may  be  brought  to  naught  by  a  trifle,  and  her 
eloquent  harangue,  matured  by  several  hours  of  uninterrupted 
thought,  went  out  in  a  single  exclamation,  like  an  imperfect  fusee, 
when,  at  two  o'clock,  A.M.,  Mr.  Moreau  was  brought  up  to  his 
chamber  in  the  arms  of  a  couple  of  negro  waiters,  dead  drunk. 
In  one  respect  he  was  exactly  fitted  for  her  purpose,  inasmuch  as 
he  could  not  speak  an  intelligible  word  ;  but  this  qualification 
was  of  questionable  value  when  joined  to  an  inability  to  hear. 
With  anger  too  hot  for  tears,  she  discharged  the  men,  who  inquired 
compassionately  if  she  wished  them  to  undress  him  ;  with  her  ow; 
hands  tore  off  his  outer  clothing  and  his  boots,  and  partly  led 
partly  tumbled  him  into  bed,  where  he  snored  drunkenly  until  late 
into  the  following  morning,  his  wife  perforce  bottling  her  wrath 
against  such  tune  as  he  should  be  released  from  the  dominion  of 
the  other  fiery  spirits  that  held  sway  over  him. 

With  emotions  of  intense  disgust,  unsoftened  by  any  charitable 
movings  toward  the  lover  of  her  youth,  the  father  of  her  children, 
Eleanor,  having  completed  her  own  toilette,  began  to  pick  up  the 
various  garments  from  the  floor  where  she  had  flung  them  at  night 
Hours  must  elapse  before  her  husband  would  be  fit  to  be  seen. 
She  must  excuse  him  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  who  of  the  party 
would  be  so  simple-minded  as  not  to  connect  the  morning's  sick 
nes^  with  the  unexplained  disappearance  of  Christmas  evening  ? 
These  irregularities  would  ruin  his  prospects  of  his  uncle's  final 
favor  ;  and  Mrs.  Rashleigh  1  Eleanor  fancied  that  she  already  saw 
the  glitter  of  her  cold  eyes  gloating  upon  their  disgrace  ! 

"  And  all  to  satisfy  a  drunkard's  thirst !"  she  muttered.  "  A 
grand,  a  glorious  thing  is  man  1  the  noblest  work  of  creation  I 
In  nothing  else  so  strong  as  in  appetites  that  would  debase  a 
soulless  brute  I" 


NEMESIS.  465 

The  soliloquy  was  broken  off  by  the  falling  of  some  ohject  from 
the  clothes  she  was  hanging  in  a  closet.  It  was  a  pocket-book— 
11  capacious  wallet,  whose  present  state  of  collapse  tempteJ 
Eleanor  to  the  dishonorable  act  of  opening  it,  to  ascertain  if  it 
was  entire!}  empty.  In  idle,  wondering  curiosity,  she  fingered 
one  vacant  pocket  after  another,  until  in  the  fourth,  she  found  a 
packet  done  up  in  silver  paper.  A  jealous  instinct  told  her  that 
it  was  hair,  and  she  unwrapped  it.  Instead  of  the  black,  brown 
or  golden  tress  she  expected  would  blast  her  sight  with  the  open- 
ing of  the  last  fold,  there  dropped  into  her  palm  a  flossy  ring,  she 
recognized  at  once  as  having  been  clipped  from  the  flaxen  poll  of 
baby  Nelly.  At  another  time  the  mother's  heart  would  have, 
been  melted  by  this  evidence  of,  at  least,  one  pure  sentiment  that 
had  survived  the  general  wreck  of  right  principle  and  feeling. 
Now  she  thrust  it  back  contemptuously  into  the  wallet. 

"  If  he  really  loved  her,  he  would  not  be  in  such  haste  to  beg- 
gar her  I" 

In  the  next  and  last  compartment,  was  a  quarter  sheet  of 
coarse  foolscap,  so  lately  written  upon  that  the  ink  was  still  pale. 
Eleanor  pored  over  it  with  a  scowling  suspicion.  It  was  hastily 
or  carelessly  penned,  and  here  and  there  were  splotches  of  ink, 
shaken  from  an  unsteady  pen.  It  was  apparently  some  kind 
of  memoranda  jotted  down  upon  the  most  convenient  sip  of 
paper. 

"S $50 

W 160 

H 300 

S 300 

W  . .  .600 


$1,610." 

After  some  minutes  of  unavailing  scrntiny,  she  replaced  tbv 
paper  and  took  out  another  and  a  smaller  strap. 

20* 


466  NEMESIS. 

"  Received  of  Robert  Moreau  $760  (seven  hundred  and  sixty 

by  "check  upon  the  Bank. 

"  JAMES  WOODSON." 

"  Aha  !" 

The  ejaculation  broke  harshly  upon  the  stillness  of  the  room. 
The  unintelligible  list  of  sums  was  again  drawn  forth,  and  when 
the  addition  of  the  separate  amounts  opposite  the  initial  "  W," 
resulted  in  a  total  exactly  corresponding  with  that  receipted  by 
the  check,  the  case  was  made  out, 

Eleanor  had,  ever  since  her  marriage,  been  aware  of  her  hus- 
band's propensity  to  the  vice  of  gaming  ;  but  it  had  never  occa- 
sioned her  serious  anxiety  until  about  three  years  before,  when  he 
lost  a  heavy  sum,  and  the  transaction  reached  her  ears.  A 
fitormy  scene  ensued — threats  of  separation  from  her,  and  a  fee- 
ble show  of  independence  on  his  side  ;  but  the  contest  ended  in  a 
solemn  promise  from  him  that  he  would  never  throw  another  card 
for  pecuniary  loss  or  gain,  and  not  play  at  all,  except  in  mixed 
companies  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  or,  with  a  friend,  at  his  own 
house.  Like  many  other  able  generals,  Mrs.  Moreau  had  an  ex- 
alted idea  of  her  own  influence,  and  the  reality  of  her  apparent 
victories.  In  other  respects,  she  allowed  that  her  spouse  was  dis- 
posed to  be  unstable,  but  that  he  would  knowingly  controvert  her 
designs,  or  willfully  violate  a  compact  made  with  her,  never 
entered  her  busy  brain.  So  entire  was  her  confidence  in  his  good 
faith  in  this  instance,  thaj.  she  was  wont  to  inveigh,  with  virtuous 
strictness,  against  the  prevalence  of  card-playing  and  betting  iu 
their  neighborhood,  much  to  the  diversion  of  the  initiated,  whose 
knowledge  of  Mr.  Moreau's  proclivity  and  practice  was  founded 
upon  evidence  more  conclusive  than  his  mere  word.  She  had  be- 
stowed many  signs  of  approbation  upon  the  reformed  gambler, 
often  sitting  down  with  him  herself,  to  a  snug  game,  when  she 
fancied  that  he  felt  dull,  or  was  longing  for  his  accustomed  excite- 
ment. 

Here  was  her  reward.!  duplicity  so  deep,  ingratitude  so  black. 


N  E  M  K  f  I  8  .  467 

inf;it nation  so  reckless,  that  even  this  bold,  unscrupulous  \vomac 
stood  aghast.  She  could  scarcely  restrain  the  frantic  effort  to 
arouse  him  from  his  tipsy  slumbers,  and  upbraid  him  with  his 
crime,  learn  the  extent  of  this  monstrous  villainy.  This  was  tht 
key  to  the  mysterious  depression  that  had  hung  about  him  for  so 
long — a  cloud,  that  gathered  blackness  daily  !  This  was  the 
worm  that,  was  gnawing  soul  and  body  !  Who  could  say  upot 
what  verge  of  ruin  and  disgrace  she  and  Ler  children  might  now 
be  standing  ?  When  she  had  spoken  of  her  innocent  babe's  ap- 
proach to  beggary,  it  was  no  hyperbole  of  passion ,  although  she 
may  have  deemed  it  such. 

Mechanically  she  replaced  the  paper  that  had  showed  her  this 
al>}><  of  confusion  and  woe.  There  was  a  rip  in  the  lining  of  the 
pocket-book,  and  through  it  protruded  the  corner  of  a  note,  that 
had,  by  some  means,  found  its  way  to  a  lodgment  between  the 
inner  and  outer  leather  sides.  Mrs.  Moreau's  prying  fingers  seized 
it  and  extricated  this.  It  was  soiled  and  crumpled,  as  by  toss- 
ing about  in  the  pocket  or  wallet.  A,  mortal  pallor  overspread 
the  dark,  handsome  face,  as  she  read  it — a  look  of  affright  and 
wonder,  surpassing  all  powers  of  description.  It  was  the  scathing 
ppistle  penned  to  her,  by  her  brother,  eight  months  back,  concern- 
ing the  loan  he  had  made  to  her  husband.  The  insane  fatuity 
that  had  led  to  its  preservation  can  only  be  explained  by  subscrib- 
ing to  the  homely  axiom,  so  uncomplimentary  to  the  father  of  lies 
— to  wit,  that,  although  zealous  to  get  his  followers  into  mis- 
chief, he  always  leaves  them  to  get  themselves  out.  Mr.  Moreaa 
had  never  quite  persuaded  himself  that  the  safe  season  for  destroy- 
ing the  intercepted  missive  had  arrived,  and  after  tucking  it  into 
the  hiding-place  accidentally  offered  for  its  reception,  he  considered 
that  it  was  as  secure  from  discover}7  there,  as  it  would  be  in  the 
fire. 

"  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly  !" 

To  these  significant  words,   Eleanor'?  craze  returned  fixedly 


±68  NEMESIS. 

And  she  and  hers  were  food  for  these  avenging  engines  I  Throngk 
all  these  years  of  outward  prosperity  and  inward  vain-glorying 
the  bloodhounds  had  been  upon  her  track  i  There  was  a  brief 
paralysis  of  abject  terror — of  deadly  despair  ;  then,  the  lion-spirit 
rallied,  not  to  sustain,  but  to  resist  its  sentence.  What  was  thii 
mummery  about  retribution — this  senseless  analogy  between  her 
state,  and  that  of  the  vulgarians,  whose  folly  and  presumption  had 
ended  in  just  degradation — but  the  ravings  of  a  crazy  man,  whose 
fancies  had  made  him  the  laughing-stock  of  reasonable  people  ? 
Who  else  could  ever  have  espied  any  connection  between  the 
death  of  a  delinquent  debtor  of  a  fever,  and  Mr.  Moreau's  hum' 
bling  himself  to  solicit  a  loan  of  his  wealthy  brother-in-law  ? 

With  a  sneering  laugh,  she  tore  the  billet  into  bits  and  threw 
them  into  the  fire.  In  an  hour  more,  she  was  seated  at  breakfast, 
at  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  right  hand,  listening  and  replying  with  a  pla- 
cid countenance  to  the  Colonel's  inquiries  and  regrets  on  account 
of  her  husband's  sickness. 

"  He  will  be  well  enough  to  go  with  us  to  Mr.  Wickham's  to 
dinner — will  he  not  ?"  said  Katherine. 

"  I  hope  so.  Still,  these  severe  spells  of  sick  headache  shaka 
one  so  fearfully  that  even  should  the  pain  subside,  it  may  not  be 
prudent  for  him  to  mingle  in  a  gay  party  this  evening.  If  he 
remains  at  home,  I,  as  a  dutiful,  affectionate  wifet  shall  stay  also; 
out  you  must  not  suffer  our  movements  to  affect  yours.  Do  you 
think  that  you  will  feel  equal  to  going  out,  my  dear  madam  ?" 

"  I  shall  pass  the  evening  here,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Rashleigh. 

"  I  have  an  idea  1"  exclaimed  Eleanor,  seeking,  by  factitioua 
gaiety,  to  dissemble  her  true  feeling.  "  You,  uncle,  can  escort 
Katherine  and  our  good  Mrs.  Holt,  here,  to  your  friend's  house 
to  dinner.  Mrs.  Rashleigh  and  myself,  with  Mr.  Moreau  as  our 
cavalier,  will  join  you  to-night  at  the  theatre.  It  was  a  part  of 
your  plan  to  attend  the  play — was  it  not  ?"  to  -Katherine. 

'.'  Yes.     Placide  is  called  a  fine  actor.     Mr.  Wick  ham's  praise* 


NEMESIS.  469 

of  him  and  his  company  have  made  me  more  thau  curious — anx 
ious  to  witness  their  performances.  You  know  my  liking  for  the 
histrionic  art.  If  it  is  an  unworthy  taste,  Mrs.  Holt  is  to  be  cef 
sured.  She  introduced  me  to  Shakspeare." 

"  The  legitimate  drama  is  an  appropriate  stady  for  the  wisest 
of  philososophers,"  observed  Colonel  Rashleigh.  "  It  presents  an 
ample  field  for  the  investigation  of  human  nature.  It  inculcates 
a  love  for  virtue  and  abhorrence  of  vice,  and  portrays  the  benefi- 
cent effects  of  oue,  and  the  punishment  of  the  other  in  so  re-mar- 
ka-ble  a  manner,  as  cannot  but  have  a  salutary  influence  upon  the 
mind  and  heart." 

"  A  summary  of  human  life — an  abstract  of  human  experi- 
ence !"  said  Katherine. 

And,  to  her  annoyance,  Mrs.  Holt  glided  off  into  the  smooth 
tide  of  trite  quotation — 

"  All  the  world's  a  stage, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players — 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances, 
And  one  man,  in  his  time,  plays  many  parts." 

Mr.  Moreau  awoke  at  noon,  with  a  headache,  a  parched, 
woolly  mouth,  and  a  sense  of  something  dreadful,  past,  present,  or 
to  come,  sitting  heavily  upon  his  soul.  His  wife  waited  upon  mm 
with  portentous  calmness.  She  let  him  shave,  dress  and  drink 
the  coffee  she  had  ordered  for  his  breakfast,  without  a  syllable  of 
rebuke  But,  when  he  divided  the  burden  of  his  trembling  limbs 
between  his  chair  and  the  fender,  and  proceeded  to  fill  his  pipe  for 
a  composing  smoke,  she  opened  her  battery. 

Even  his  muddled  intellect  perceived  the  futility  of  denial  ;  the 
folly  of  any  feint  at  excuse.  His  tongue  was,  for  once,  too  thick 
for  falsehood.  He  sat,  cowed  and  dumb,  pressing  the  unlighted 
tobacco  into  the  bowl  of  his  pipe  ;  the  wet  hair  clinging  closely  w» 
liis  reddened  forehead  ;  his  »\vos,  blixxlshot  aud  watery,  oast  down- 


NEMESIS. 


ward  upon  his  hands,  and  let  charge,  proof,  verdict  anil  vitupera 
tion  pour  in  upon  him  like  fiery  hail.     Now  and  then  a  wince  or 


pain.  This  happened  once,  when  she  demanded  where  he  obtained 
the  deposit  from  which  Woodson  was  to  draw  liquidation  of  his 
elaim.  He  shook  then,  as  with  a  tertian  ague,  and  mumbled 
something — impertinently  enough  his  wife  thought — to  the  pur- 
port that  the  "least  said  about  that  was  soonest  mended." 

His  agitation  subsided,  instead  of  increasing,  when  she  retorted, 
with  a  savage  accent,  that  she  "supposed  it  was  a  reserve  sum. 
set  aside  for  such  contingencies  out  of  the  money  lent  by  her 
brother.  It  was  a  highly  consistent  use  to  make  of  gains  which 
aad  been  employed  as  a  medium  of  wanton  insult  to  the  wife  he 
.bad  not  the  manliness  to  defend."  From  this  she  glanced,' as  an 
exquisite  instrument  of  torture,  to  the  silvery  curl  she  had  found  in 
rus  pocket-book,  expatiating' upon  the  perverted  moral  instinct  of 
-,he  unnatural  father,  who  could  lay  this  memento  of  his  spotless 
babe  by  such  records  of  evil  dealing  as  occupied  the  next  compart- 
ment. If  these  were  the  associations  with  which  she  was  to  be 
brought  in  contact,  it  were  better  that  she  should  die  before  their 
influence  polluted  her  pure  nature.  Not  that  he,  would  regret  this 
event  !  His  conduct  was  decisive  as  to  his  sentiments  toward  his 
unhappy  family.  They  could  be  nothing  but  an  encumbrance,  a 
hateful  clog,  upon  the  hands  of  a  gentleman  of  pleasure  " — — 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Eleanor  !"  he  interposed,  imploringly — 
"  Don't  >ay  that  1  I  am  a  scoundrel  !  a  wretch  that  deserves 
everything  else  that  you  have  said  and  the  gallows  beside.  But  1 
Jo  love  my  children,  aod  I  never  meant  to  wrong  you  !  The 
Lord  knows  I  never  did  1  Wicked  as  I  am,  the  thought  of  baby 
Nelly's  sweet  face  almost  breaks  my  heart !  I  wish  I  had  died 
before  she  was  born.  I  should  have  been  saved  from  the  sin  of 
robbing  that  one  of  my  babies," 

Ho  nibbed  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 


N  E  M  E  8  I  S  . 

•*  Fine  words  and  theatrical  airs  cost  nothing,"  Eleanor 
Assumed.  A  fraction  of  the  remorse  and  upright  intentions  he 
now  expressed,  would,  if  reduced  to  practice  in  season,  have 
saved  him  and  them  from  ignominious  poverty.  Now,  the  most 
cheering  anticipation  any  of  his  household  could  experience  with 
1  to  him  was  the  hope  that  some  barrier  could  be  erected 
that  would  prevent  all  future  intercourse  between  himself  and  the 
innocent  creatures  he  had  so  basely  injured.  For  her  part,  she 
was  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  pray  that  none  of  her  poor,  defrauded, 
disgraced  children  should  ever  see  again  the  face  of  liim,  they 
were  instructed  to  call  by  the  holy  name  of  "  father/' 

"  Eleanor  I"  he  said,  hoarsely — "  You  do  not — you  cannot 
mean  that  I  Do  not  drive  me  to  desperation  !  Take  it  back  1" 

••  Nut  one  word  of  it  I"  She  confronted  him  with  eyes  that 
burned  luridly.  "  Not  one  word  of  it  I  I  say  it  would  have  been 
well  for  them  never  to  have  seen  you,  and  that  the  greatest  bless- 
ing which  could  come  to  them  would-be  never  to  meet  or  hear  ol 
you  again  in  this  world.  Make  what  you  will  of  it !" 

He  gave  her  a  long,  piteous  stare  ;  then  reached  down  his  hat 
from  the  mantel  and  slouched  it  over  his  brows,  put  on  his  cloak 
and  went  out  unsteadily,  like  a  sleep-walker  near  his  awakening. 

Eleanor  sent  a  jeering  laugh  after  him. 

"  Don't  forget  the  tragedy  to-night  I" 

Then  she  was  alone  with  her  raging  passions,  and  they  ravened 
upon  her  at  their  mad,  fierce  will. 

In  the  family  circle,  she  maintained  the  hollow  snow  of  smiling 
decorum.  Katheriue  had  not  attended  party  or  assembly  since 
her  illness,  until  this  evening,  and  the  girlish  pleasure  of  seeing 
Uerself  again  arrayed  in  gala  costume  was  manifest  in  her  richer 
bloom  and  sparkling  eyes.  Her  dress  was  blue  satin,  of  the  shade 
now  called  "  mazarine,"  trimmed  near  the  bottom  of  the  skirt 
with  a  band  of  Mack  velvet,  a  quarter  of  a  yard  dee})  ;  tin-  puffi 
of  her  sleeves  ««jn>  eangtit  up  with  'oops  of  the  snme  material 


472  NEMESIS. 

and  it  edged  the  wide,  flowing  ends  of  her  sash.  Her  hair  wai 
knotted  high  up  at  the  back  of  her  head,  secured  by  the  tall  comb 
whose  ornamented  top  added  more  than  an  inch  to  her  stature 
A  pearl  spray  confined  the  curls  upon  the  left  temple,  and  she  wore 
a  necklace  of  larger  pearls.  The  rarely  fine  lace  in  which  Mrs. 
llashleigh  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  connoisseur,  composed 
her  stomacher  and  peeped  out  below  her  sleeves.  Blue  satin 
slippers  and  white  silk  stockings  ;  a  fan  of  carved  ivory  and  rice 
paper — a  fragile,  curious  toy — and  long  kid  gloves  supplied  the  fin- 
ishing touches  to  the  toilette  of  this  favorite  of  beauty  and  fortune. 
The  Colonel  had  bestowed  far  more  thought  upon  his  dress  than 
Katherine's  had  cost  her.  A  broad-skirted  coat  of  dove-colored 
cloth,  with  immense  buttons  of  mother  of  pearl,  a  waistcoat  of 
white  silk,  embroidered  with  lavender  ;  breeches  like  the  coat, 
with  silver  knee-buckles,  white  stockings  and  high-heeled  pumps, 
would  excite  the  derision  of  fashionable  circles  now.  Then,  they 
formed  an  appropriate  garb  for  the  portly  English  gentleman  ;  noi 
was  the  powdered  hair  inadmissible  in  the  best  society,  although 
it  had  ceased  to  be  the/'  mode." 

"  I  wish  the  young  gentlemen  dressed  as  well  as  you  do,  papa  t ' 
said  Katherine,  saucily.  "  Costume,  as  an  art,  is  going  out  of 
fashion,  I  am  afraid — among  the  gentlemen,  I  mean.  With  ladies, 
it  must  remain  a  perpetual  study,  until  the  end  of  time — and 
toilettes  !  I  am  ludicrously  reminded  of  a  humming-bird  when  a 
modern  dainty  gent  flourishes  up  to  me  on  tiptoe,  bedecked  hi  a 
pea-green  coat,  a  blue  waistcoat,  and,  perhaps,  light-brown  panta- 
loons, and  prays  me  to  exhibit  myself  in  the  next  dance  with  him 
It  is  a  call  upon  my  moral  courage  to  say  '  Yes '  to  such  a  re- 
quest. Happily,  there  is  no  dancing  at  a  dinner-party  or  the 
theatre,  and  I  can  have  the  best-dressed  gentleman  in  the  com- 
pany, for  my  beau-especial,"  with  a  mock-respectful  courtesy  to 
tier  father. 

He  tapped  her  cheek,  laughingly.     "  .Aid  I  &?e  uo  reason  why 


H  E  M  E  8  I  W  .  472 

I  should  not  be  vain  of  my  daughter,  also.  What  say  yon. 
mamma  ?  Is  not  the  little  witch  going  to  surprise  us  yet,  by 
growing  into  a  moderately  fine  woman  ?" 

"  -I  will  not  submit  to  such  faint  praise  1"  cried  Katherine. 
"  When  everybody  says  I  am  the  express  image  of  what  mamma 
was,  at  my  age  1  I  allow  that  she  is  handsomer  now.  Is  she  a 
'  moderately  fine  woman,'  papa  ?" 

The  Colonel  looked  at  his  queenly  wife  with  undisguised 
pride. 

"  She  is  always  the  '  fairest,  discretest,  best '  of  her  sex,  in  my 
eyes." 

It  was  seldom  that  his  manner  to  her  was  caressing  in  the  pre- 
sence of  others  ;  but,  as  he  said  this,  he  stooped  over  and  kissed 
her  brow. 

"  I  shall  not  expect  certainly  to  meet  you  at  the  play.  Much 
as  I  should  enjoy  your  society  there,  I  should  be  displeased  were 
you  to  risk  your  valuable  health  by  going.  That  is  the  first 
consideration." 

Katherine  had  bidden  her  mother,  "  good  evening,"  and  was  at 
the  door,  when  Mrs.  Moreau  warned  her  playfully,  "  not  to  lose 
her  heart." 

"  Unless  I  can  bring  home  one  worth  twice  as  much — yot. 
would  say,  I  suppose  ?"  said  she,  looking  back,  with  a  bright 
glance  her  mother  never  forgot. 

Mrs.  Moreau  and  Mrs.  Rashleigh  resumed  the  light  work  that 
had  employed  their  fingers,  when  the  diners-out  entered  to  pay 
their  adieux.  Mrs.  Moreau  talked  volubly  and  sometimes  un- 
meaningly. Mrs.  Rashleigh  appeared  to  listen,  and  when  she 
could  not,  without  direct  rudeness,  do  otherwise,  spoke  a  few 
words.  The  uncongenial  colloquy  was  interrupted  by  a  servant, 
who  informed  Mrs.  Rashleigh  that  a  gentleman  wished  to  speak 
with  her,  as  Colonel  Rashleigh  was  from  home. 

"  Show  him  up  !     Keep  your  seat  !"  said  the  lady  to  Eleanor, 


474  NEMESIS. 

after  a  glimpse  of  the  person  who  was  just  without  the  dooi 
showed  her  that  he  was  a  stranger. 

He  was  a  civil  young  man,  who  introduced  himself  sensi-bly 
and  without  any  affectation  of  diffidence. 

"  My  name,  madam,  is  Crump  ;  I  am  a  clerk  in  the 


and  I  was  sent  here  to  acquaint  Colonel  Rashleigh  with  the  fact 
that  suspicions  are  entertained  of  the  genuineness  of  a  cheque 
bearing  his  signature,  which  was  presented  to  day.  We  are  not 
so  "familiar  with  his  handwriting  as  to  be  positive  of  the  forgery. 
Indeed,  the  cashier,  being  pressed  with  business  at  the  time,  paid 
over  the  money,  without  close  inspection  of  the  cheque.  It  was 
not  until  subsequent  examination  excited  his  doubts  that  it  was 
•iecided  to  refer  the  matter  to  Colonel  Rashleigh." 

"  Have  you  the  cheque  with  you  ?" 

"  I  have,  madam,"  taking  out  his  pocket-book.  "  Since  Colonel 
Rashleigh  is  out,  and  promptitude  may  be  necessary,  if  we  wish 
to  apprehend  the  forger,  or  get  back  the  money,  and  you,  no 
doubt,  know  Colonel  Rashleigh's  signature  perfectly  well,  madam, 
will  you  have  the  goodness  to  examine  this  paper  ?" 

It  was  worded  thus  — 


"  Pay  to  Robert  Moreau  or  order  the  sum  of  seven  hundred 

dollars  ($760). 

"  HENRY  L.  RASHLEIGH." 


At  a  casual  glance,  it  might  readily  pass  for  a  fac-simile  of 
Colonel's  characteristic  autography.  His  wife  detected  the  coun- 
terfeit on  the  instant,  and  that  she  did  so,  was  seen  by  both 
the  lookers  on,  who  watched  her  with  such  diverse  emotions. 

The  bank  official  respected  the  honest  indignation  at  the  liberty 
taken  with  her  husband's  name  and  funds,  that  hurried  the  crim 
Bon  over  the  wife's  face,  until  then  colorless  as  alabaster,  and  the 
prudent  self-control  that  compressed  the  mouth  to  shut  back  th« 
unguarded  speech  that  would  hav«  forestalled  the  course  of  justice 


N  E  M  i:  8  I  8  .  475 

Eleanor  realized,  as  by  a  lightning  fla:-!i,  that  her  ousband's 
reputation  was  in  the  hands  of  one  upon  whose  leniency  he  had 
no  hold.  From  the  moment  of  the  man's  stating  his  errand,  th« 
truth  had  curdled  the  blood  around  her  heart,  and  remembering 
her  husband's  expression  at  her  inquiries  about  the  check  given 
to  Woodsoii,  she  felt  that  her  suspicions  had  been  slow  in  awaken- 
ing. Her  inner  sight  read  every  word  of  the  forged  paper  aa 
plainly  as  did  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  eyes,  while  her  bodily  vision, 
strained  to  acuteness  by  mental  agony,  recognized  the  endorse- 
ment upon  the  reverse  of  the  note — "  Robert  Moreau." 

Would  that  stern  woman  never  speak  ?  Why  feign  to  scru- 
tinize what  she  had  condemned  at  sight  ?  Did  policy  withhold 
her  sentence  ?  It  was  not  mercy.  The  gentlest  of  divine  attri- 
butes never  softened  such  eyes  as  those. 

"  It  Is  my  impression,"  said  Mrs.  Rashleigh,  slowly,  "  that 
Colonel  Rashleigh  did  not  write  this.  I  am,  however,  not  dis- 
posed to  affirm  that  he  did  not.  I  prefer  that  you  retain  the 
paper,  and  call  upon  him  early  to-morrow  morning  ;  he  will  not 
be  in  again,  until  late  to-night." 

"  Cannot  you  inform  me  where  he  may  be  found  at  present, 
madam  ?  Delays  are  dangerous." 

"  I  will  take  the  responsibility  of  this  one." 

Awed  by  her  dignity,  he  begged  pardon  and  retreated.  Mrs. 
Rashleigh  took  up  her  needle  once  more. 

"  It  is  growing  colder,"  she  said,  glancing  out  of  the  win 
dow. 

"  Was  that  note  a  forgery  ?"  asked  Eleanor,  in  a  discordn;  t 
voice. 

"  It  was."  Mrs.  Rashleigh  answered  as  unconcernedly  as  sb? 
had  remarked  upon  the  weather. 

"  Do  you  know  v  ho  wrote  it  ?" 

"  I  do." 

"Who?" 


476  NEMESIS 

"-Your  husband  I" 

There  was  a  pause.  Eleanor  was  literally  wrung  with  anguish 
She  bowed  her  face  upon  her  knees  and  groaned — an  outbreak  of 
passionate  woe,  that  seemed  to  rend  the  heart  as  it  escaped 
Then,  she  lifted  herself  and  asked — still  in  that  harsh  key  : 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  him  ?" 

A  thrill  of  unhallowed  joy  ran  through  the  frame  of  th« 
Nemesis — she  was  acknowledged  as  the  arbiter  of  her  enemy'i 
late  ! 

Her  voice  was  untremulous.  "  It  is  Colonel  Rashleigh's  affair 
• — not  mine." 

"  But  your  influence  over  him  is  unbounded." 

"  I  never  interfere  in  his  business." 

"  What  do  you  think  that  he  will  do  ?" 

"  I  presume  that  he  will  let  the  law  take  its  course." 

"  And  the  penalty  is  " 

"  The  penitentiary." 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest  ?"  said  the  half-crazed  woman. 

"  Is  it  likely  that  I  would  jest  on  such  a  subject  ?" 

Her  coolness  was  maddening  ;  her  slight,  scornful  smile  piti- 
less as  death. 

"  For  the  love  of  mercy  1"  cried  Eleanor,  crushed  to  her  knees 
by  the  view  of  the  gulf  at  her  feet.  "  If  you  have  one  spark  of 
womanly  feeling,  think  of  your  own  child,  and  pity  my  little  ones." 

"  They  are  truly  unfortunate,  but  not  more  so  than  others  have 
been.  Mr.  Moreau  can  blame  no  one  except  himself,  for  their 
degradation." 

"  I  know  it,  but  he  is  weak-minded,  and  easily  led  astray.  He 
has  been  fearfully  tempted.  Represent  to  his  uncle  that  this  is 
his  first  offence  of  this  kind.  What  is  this  paltry  sum  to  a  man 
of  his  wealth  ?  If  he  will  pass  this  over,  and  save  my  husbaM,  I 
promise  solemnly,  that  he  shall  be  repaid,  if  we  are  made  1  jn;e> 
less  by  so  doing.  Will  you  net  plead  for  us  ?" 


NEMESIS.  477 

She  said  all  this  kneeling  upon  the  floor — humbled  in  the  dust 
— her  eyes  lifted  toward  the  stony  features  of  the  advocate  she 
sought  to  enlist. 

"  '  His  first  offence  of  this  kind  !'  In  what  class  of  offences 
am  I  then  t<>  place  the  letter  written  in  the  name  of  his  brother- 
in-law,  which  you  showed  to  my  daughter  ?  Why  do  you  sit 
there  ?  Get  up  and  answer,  for  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  the 
account  between  n-." 

The  total  alteration  in  her  countenance  and  tone,  struck 
Eleanor,  excited  as  she  was.  She  obeyed. 

"  The  letter  !  the  letter  1"  she  replied,  to  gain  time,  "  I  do  not 
remember  it." 

"  I  mean  the  epistle  suggested  by  yourself — penned  by  your 
husband,  and  read  by  Katherine,  while  she  was  at  Montrouge 
lu-t  fall.  Were  you  the  principal  in  the  matter,  or  was  he  ?" 

"  It  was  William  Bancroft's  proposal." 

"  And  you  condescended  to  follow  where  so  contemptible  a 
reptile  crawled.  There  is  a  paper  which  you  may  return  to  Mr. 
Moreau.  He  left  it  upon  my  desk  at  Briarwood,  the  day  you 
called  to  invite  Katherine  to  your  house.  His  head  was  so  full 
of  his  master-piece,  that  he  could  not  refrain  from  practising  his 
penmanship,  wherever  and  whenever  he  found  paper  and  pen 
/eady  to  his  hand.  That  is  a  better  imitation  of  your  brother's 
signature  that  Mr.  Mureau  achieved  of  his  uncle's  in  the  check 
I  examined  just  now.  You  ought  to  be  very  proud  of  his  talents 
tribe." 

The  cruel  taunt  was  unheeded  :  Eleanor  was  constrained  tc 

'  N 

look  at  the  sheet  handed  to  her  It  was  scribbled  over  with  un- 
connected words,  among  which — "Ben  Lomond" — "My  dear 
Eleanor,''  "Malcolm,"  "Malcolm  Argyle,"  "Miss  Kashleigh,'1 
ccenrred — all  in  a  feigned  hand,  bearing  so  close  a  resemblance 
to  Malcolm's  that  it  was  impossible  to  suppose,  it  SMI  accidfuta- 
coincidence 


4:78  NEMESIS. 

"  Wnom  the  g  xls  wish  to  destroy,  they  first  make  mad, '  waa 
a  proverb  that  might  well  be  placed,  in  this  connection,  alongsida 
of  the  one  which  her  brother's  voice  now  seemed  to  reiterate  in 
Eleanor's  ear. 

"  You  poisoned  mj  child's  mind  against  a  true  and  fond  lover, 
Is  it  this  which  I  am  to  remember  to  beget  in  me  pity  for  your 
children  ?  He  was  driven  from  his  home  by  her  rejection,  and 
her  mental  suffering  produced  the  illness  which  had  well-nigh 
made  me  childless.  Are  your  '  little  ones '  to  reap  the  benefit 
of  this  reflection  ?  What  think  you  ?  Would  a  mother  be 
likely  to  spare  the  murderess  of  her  daughter  ?  Look  at  me, 
Eleanor  Argyle  !  Can  a  wife  spare  the  murderess  of  her 
husband  ?" 

At  her  almost  forgotten  maiden-name,  Eleanor  did  look  up. 
She  saw  a  form,  instinct  with  such  energy,  an  eye,  dilate  with 
such  wrath,  as  metamorphosed  the  cold,  languid  invalid  into  a 
Pythoness,  breathing  vengeance. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  she  said,  shrinking  from  the  apparition. 

"  The  '  cobbler's  wife,'  whom  you  sforned !  the  suppliant, 
whose  prayer  for  her  husband's  life  you  denied,  and  added  insult 
to  your  denial  1  You  may  quake  and  stare  at  me  1  It  is  as  1 
have  said.  Your  punishment  has  slumbered  long,  but  it  is  upon 
you  now.  The  man  whom  you  have  married  assailed  me — «iu 
unprotected,  sorrowing  woman — with  his  infamous  gallantries, 
and 'your  jealousy  at  hearing  that  he  had  been  seen  with  me 
fanned  your  dislike  into  fury.  Your  father's  tool — as  your  father 
was  yours — was  that  disgrace  to  mankind,  Sancroft.  Between 
you,  you  thrust  an  innocent,  dying  man  into  a  prison,  from  which 
death,  more  merciful  than  any  of  your  band,  released  him.  Have 
forgotten,  you  or  your  accomplice  ?  Have  you  heard  nothing 
vf  the  pending  investigation  of  his  later  knaveries,  which  will 
blast  his  character  forever,  if  it  does  not  consign  him  to  a  felon's 
cell  ?  Are  you  aware,  that  even  had  your  husband  never  com- 


W  E  M  E  8  I  8  . 

nitted  this  forgery,  he  could  not  have  esca^d  similar  disgrace  ? 
In.-ti--ated  by  hi.i  evil  spirit,  AVilliam  Sancroft,  be  purloined  from 
Colonel  Rashleigh's  lawyer  tlie  papers  that  would  have  convicted 
his  frit ud's  father.  And  I — / — mind  you  !  followed  him  up, 
until  the  evidence  establishing  his  guilt  was  obtained,  lie  haj 
virtually  confessed  the  deed,  but  it  was  superfluous  testimony 
This  is  the  solution  of  his  shyness  in  my  company — the  downcast 
eyes  and  sullen  shamefacedness  that  have  troubled  and  augrred 
you.  Are  you  jealous  now  of  my  influence  over  him  ?  You* 
own  is  not  greater  !" 

Eleanor  had  caught  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  leaned  her  face 
upon  it ;  her  breath  coming  in  sharp,  loud  gasps,  like  the  suffo- 
cating sobs  of  one  drowning. 

"  I  have  been  patient — very  patient !  a  patience  that  has 
stolen  away  my  health  and  youth,  made*  me  old,  while  yet  in  my 
prune.  But  I  knew  that  it  would  come — the  day  and  hour  of 
the  avenging  angel !  Is  it  still  your  wish  that  I  shotdd  be  your 
intercessor  with  your  uncle  ?" 

No  answer  except  the  hysterical  gasping. 

"  He  has  been  the  unconscious  instrument  in  the  grasp  of  Fate 
In  what  he  has  done  in  providing  for  my  child  and  myself 
and  in  removing  to  this  country,  he  was  unmoved  by  any  know 
ledge  of  Bessy  Hale's  wrongs,  or  her  oath  of  vengeance.  He 
never  knew  that  Mark  Hale  died  hi  prison,  as  truly  by  your 
hands  as  if  you  had  stabbed  him  to  the  heart.  It  is  not  to  his 
pity  that  I  owe  my  position,  nor  his  sense  of  justice  that  has 
accomplished  your  humiliation.  No  !  it  was  Destiny,  and  it  ia 
victorious  1" 

When,  after  a  prolonged  stillness,  Eleanor  raised  'ier  head,  th« 
t:ort  winter's  afternoon  was  darkening  into  night  and  she  wa* 
alone. 


N  E  M  X  8  I  ft  . 


CHAPTER  XXXIY. 

I*HK  theatre  was  a  blaze  of  light,  and  crowded  from  pit  ta 
roof.  Never  had  a  more  brilliant  assemblage  been  gathered 
within  its  walls.  It  was  the  carnival  of  the  volatile,  pleasure 
loving  South,  and  the  leaders  in  its  gaieties,  the  young,  th« 
beautiful,  and  the  opulent ;  the  elite  of  the  capital's  fashion  and 
intelligence  were  here,  to  offer  an  ovation  to  a  favorite  actor.  In 
whatever  direction  the  eye  moved,  it  was  greeted  by  gay  colors, 
flashing  jewels,  and  orighter  smiles,  and  the  joyous  hum  that 
arose  ftom  the  throng  was  like  the  distant  sound  of  laughing, 
Reaping  waters. 

Conspicuous  among  the  many  beauties  that  adorned  the  boxes, 
was  Katherine  Rashleigh.  Over  an  India  shawl  she  wore  an 
ermine  tippet,  and  both  having  been  thrown  back,  on  account  of 
the  warmth  of  the  house,  the  white  fur  circled  plump  shoulders, 
that  were  not  shamed  by  its  purity.  Her  head  was  covered  by  a 
white  satin  hat,  with  plumes,  its  wide,  round  brim  permitting  a 
fair  view  of  her  face,  over  which  the  dimples  and  blushes  were 
coming  and  going  in  enchanting  succession. 

Her  attire,  with  its  warm,  bright  hues,  all  so  becoming  to  hei 
style  of  beauty,  was  set  off  by  contrast  with  the  dress  of  her 
friend,  Miss  Wickham,  who  sat  by  her.  She  was  a  gentle-look- 
ing girl,  whose  choice  of  tints  evinced  her  modest  taste  and  an 
appreciation  of  what  best  suited  her  pensive  loveliness.  Her  hat 
and  feathers  were  mouse-color,  the  former  lined  with  pink  satin, 
and  tied  'inder  her  chin  with  pink  ribbons.  Her  cloak  and  furs 


N  EM  E  818.  481 

just  matched  the  hat  in  shade,  as  did  also  her  dross  of  delicately- 
fine  cambric,  a  material  much  in  vogue  at  that  date.  At  the 
tadi  of  the  seat,  stood  her  betrothed  lover,  Lieutenant  (Jalvert, 
rhose  low-toned  conversation  brought  up  a  happy  glow  to  ber 
transparent  skiu,  almost  as  vivid  as  the  carmine  of  Miss  E,ash 
icigh's  complexion. 

Katherine's  impulsive  temperament  was  quickened  to  exhilara- 
tion by  the  splendor  of  the  scene  and  the  billowy  murmur.  She 
coald  have  clapped  her  hands  and  screamed  in  childish  abansion 
of  delight,  and  since  she  must  curb  this  madcap  inclination,  she 
talked  fast  and  merrily  with  the  admirers  who  pressed  into  Mr. 
Wickham's  box,  to  crave  an  introduction  to  the  new  star.  The 
Colonel  was  in  his  glory,  and  in  the  plenitude  of  nis  complacency, 
be  made  it  a  point  of  conscience  and  politeness  to  address  some 
sonorous  platitude^  to  each  fresh  comer,  who  swelled  his  daugh- 
ter's train. 

"  A  gay  scene,  sir  !"  he  informed  one.  "  1  was  not  prepared 
'or  such  an  array  of  beauty  in  a  provincial  town/' 

"  There  are  some  re-mar-ka-bly  handsome  ladies  here  to-night," 
DC  observed  to  another — while  to  a  third,  he  imparted,  semi-con- 
fidentially,  his  opinion  that  the  governor  of  the  commonwealth, 
who  occupied  a  neighboring  box,  was  "  a  man  oi  distinguished 
bearing — evidently  one  of  nature's  noblemen." 

While  the  performers  were  upon  the  stage,  his  attention  was 
courteously  critical — for  had  he  not  seen  Garnck — "a  most 
extraordinary  man  and  actor  !"  as  he  enlightened  every  one  near 
him,  between  the  second  and  third  acts 

Katherine  was  never  ashamed  of  her  father.  8he  ri<rhtly 
regarded  his  faults  and  idiosyncrasies  as  trifling  blemishes  upon 
a  character  whose  main  traits  were  cenerous  and  adjnirable. 
From  her  mother  and  her  native  tact,  she  had  learned  to  divert 
the  current  of  his  ideas  when  it  set  too  decidedly  in  the 
tf  the  ridiculous. 

21 


1-82  NEMESIS. 

"  See,  papa  !"  she  said,  touching  his  elbuw,  as  he  stood  np  b 
'.he  front  of  the  box.  "  Is  not  that  Cousin  Robert  iu  the  upper 
tier — across  the  house  ?" 

The  Colonel  looked,  as  she  directed,  and  saw  his  nephew  seated 
Between  Bancroft  and  Woodson,  neighbors  whom  Katherine  had 
uot  observed  when  she  spoke. 

The  uncle  frowned.  "  It  is  himself — certainly.  Your  mother 
decided  very  prudently  to  remain  at  home,  I  imagine.  I  am  dis- 
pleased at  Robert's  public  appearance  «vith  a  " 

Katherine's  warning  finger  reminded  him  where  he  was,  and 
smothering  his  disapprobation,  he  bestowed  one  more  severe 
glance  upon  the  culprit,  and  gave  his  attention  anew  to  the 
stage. 

Katheriue  scanned  her  cousin  more  particularly.  She  thought 
it  strange  that,  when  his  wife  had  made  his  recovery  the  condi- 
tion of  her  coming  out  this  evening,  that  he  should  be  here  with- 
out her.  His  temporary  sickness  had  worsted  him  surprisingly  ,• 
but,  making  allowances  for  this  and  the  unfavorable  effect  of  his 
disordered  dress  and  unkempt  hair,  there  was  something  about 
him  which  she  could  not  understand.  His  face  was  red,  iu  spite 
of  its  haggard  lines,  and  she  could  see  that  he  talked  noisily 
constantly  interrupting  himself  and  attracting  the  notice  of  thost 
about  him  by  bursts  of  laughter.  His  companions  were  more 
quiet,  and  from  Sancroft's  gesture,  she  imagined  that  he  severaJ 
times  pointed  out  her  father  to  his  boisterous  comrade,  with 
injunctions  to  more  decorous  behavior.  She  was  glad  to  turc 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  trio,  to  the  well-bred  group  sur- 
rounding her,  and  forget  that  there  were  such  existing  evils  as- 
«?me-bibbing  and  bad  company. 

The  play  was  heartily  applauded — not  merely  for  the  merits  oJ 
tne  various  performers — still  less  for  its  intrinsic  interest,  but  il 
jiad  been  translated  from  the  French  by  a  Richmond  citizen,  anc 
there  was  a  universal  desire  to  encourage  and  reward  a  hoaif 


K  B  M  E  8  I  8  .  ±83 

production  .  ]  t  was  followed  bj  two  comic  songs  and  two  dances, 
ih<>  latter  by  Miss  Plaeide,  whose  modest  and  agile  performance 
was  extravagantly  admired  by  the  gentlemen  portion  of  the 


"  To  which  will  be  added  (for  the  first  tune  here),  the  favoritt 
New  Pantomime  of  Raymond  and  Agues,  or  the  Bleeding  Kun,w 
read  Katheriue  from  the  play-bill.  "  Oh,  delightful  1" 

"  Do  you  like  pantomime  ?"  asked  Lieutenant  Calvert. 

"  Very  much.     You  speak  as  if  you  did  not." 

"  I  like  what  I  can  understand  of  it  ;  but  unless  the  actors  are 
superlatively  good,  so  much  of  it  is  unintelligible  that  I  lose  the 
connection,  and,  of  course,  all  interest  in  the  piece." 

"  You  cannot  well  lose  your  way  here,"  observed  Miss  Wick- 
naiu.  "  The  explanatory  abstract  of  the  legend  is  really  amus- 
ing in  its  exactness.  Hear  !  '  The  mother  of  Agnes,  the  late 
countess,  portrayed  in  the  habit  of  a  nun.  The  Count  enters, 
viewing  the  picture  with  agitation.  Kneels  to  implore  forgiveness 
for  the  murder  "  - 

"  I  think  we  might  have  been  trusted  to  discover  the  '  agita- 
tion '  for  ourselves,"  returned  Katherine.  "The  Count  must  be 
a  poor  actor,  or  we  very  dull  observers,  If  we  could  not  perceive 
that  lie  was  moved  at  sight  of  the  picture." 

"  What  a  hypercritical  set  you  are  !"  interposed  Mr.  Wickhain, 
"  You  forget  that  to  those  who  are  unfamiliar  with  the  legend 
upon  which  this  dumb  show  is  founded,  the  copious  sketch  here 
given  will  be  invaluable.  For  myself,  I  confess,  that  with  Lieute- 
nant Cah'ert,  I  need  a  guide-board  at  every  turn  of  a  performance 
(ike  this  Agitation  on  the  stage,  and  off  it,  are  two  things  — 
sometimes  not  even  cousins-german.  If  the  Count,  in  entering 
should  strike  his  gouty  toe,  or  pinch  his  fingers  in  the  door,  his 
contortions,  as  his  eye  rolled  accidentally  toward  the  picture, 
would  be  comically  like  the  workings  of  the  remorse  which  he  wiU 
betray  at  sight  of  the  murdered  woman's  likeness." 


184  N  Is  M  E  6  I  6  . 

Colona  RasliIeigL,  unable  to  understand  the  flow  of  spirits  thai 
led  to  so  many  words  over  a  matter  of  no  moment  whatever,  was 
poring  through  his  spectacles,  in  search  of  the  point  of  criticism 
in  the  playbill,  when  the  curtain  arose,  "discovering  Raymond  at 
his  studies,"  and  the  eyes  of  all  were  riveted,  in  perplexity  or 
interest  upon  the  stage. 

"  Well  ?"  said  Katherine,  smiling  inquiry  at  Mr.  Wickham,  at 
the  close  of  the  first  act. 

"  Oh,  I  kept  up  pretty  well,  considering  the  celerity  with  which 
the  tiling  was  hurried  through.  I  had  hardly  time  to  glance  at 
my  bill  for  a  notice  of  one  tableau,  before  another  took  its 
place." 

"  There  were  several  marked  incongruities  in  the  scenes," 
objected  Colonel  Rashleigh,  not  unwilling  to  show  that  his  per- 
ceptive faculties  had  kept  pace  with  the  speed  that  had  baffled 
his  friend.  "  I  have  never  made  a  personal  examination  of  the 
interior  of  a  robber's  '  hovel,'  but  it  is  my  impression  that  they 
are  not,  as  a  usual  thing,  lighted  by  chandeliers." 

"  Was  there  a  chandelier  in  Baptist's  hovel  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Wickham,  much  diverted,  as  were  the  rest,  by  this  unlooked-for 
descent  to  particulars  from  such  a  source. 

"  There  was,  sir  ;  a  sconce  with  two  branches.  The  inappro- 
priateness  of  the  thing  displeased  me  instantly." 

"  A  candle-end  stuck  into  a  gin-bottle  would  have  been  in 
better  keeping,"  said  Lieutenant  Calvert. 

"  Do  not  judge  too  hastily  ;  he  was  a  robber,  and  without 
doubt,  had  stolen  the  unsuitable  article,"  suggested  Katherine. 

The  young  officer  laughed.  "  Really,  Miss  Rashleigh,  ] 
fiardly  know  which  most  to  admire — your  charity  or  your  iuge- 
dttity,  in  setting  up  this  plea  for  poor  Baptist's  taste  in  furn; 
ture." 

A  crash  of  music  from  the  orchestra  notified  them  that  th« 
second  act  had  commenced.  The  first  scene  was  that  over  »hic> 


NEMESIS  ±85 

the  jesting  crULism  had  begun — a  chamber  in  the  castle  of  Liu 
deuburg,  the  nun's  portrait  hanging  against  the  rear  wall.  A 
man,  habited  like  an  old  retainer  of  the  castle,  entered  from  thi 
side.  lie  had  not  crossed  to  the  front  of  the  platform,  when  ft 
fiery  flake  from  above  fell  upon  his  head — another,  and  another-— 
and  a  second  actor — the  Raymond  of  the  dumb  show,  rushed  for* 
ward,  and  tossed  his  arms  in  frenzied  gesticulation  toward  the 
hpectators.  Simultaneously  with  his  appearance,  was  heard  from 
behind  the  curtain,  the  startling  cry  of  "  FIRE  1" 

The  crowd  arose  as  one  man,  and  there  was  a  movement  in 
the  direction  of  the  door. 

"  False  alarm  !  There  is  no  danger  I"  shouted  a  strong  voice 
above  the  confusion,  and,  "  No  danger  !  n  >  danger  1"  was  caught 
up  and  repeated  by  many. 

Katherine's  eye  turned  to  the  quarter  from  which  the  first 
voice  came,  and  saw,  across  the  house,  the  speaker,  who  con- 
tinned  to  vociferate  the  assurance  of  safety,  and,  at  his  side,  just 
opposite  to  herself,  Malcolm  Argyle,  his  eyes  eagerly  fixed  upoo 
the  curtain,  which  had  fallen  at  the  alarm.  In  another  second, 
he  had  precipitated  himself  over  the  low  parapet  of  the  boxes, 
into  the  pit ;  and,  as  a  bright  stream  of  light  flashed  through 
the  painted  screen,  the  cry  of  "  Fire  !"  rang  out  again,  echoed 
now  by  groans  and  shrieks,  that  told  the  mad  fear  which  seized 
upon  every  soul  at  the  certainty  of  the  calamity. 

Malcolm  had  dashed  through  the  crowd  in  the  pit — all, 
beside  himself  rushing  to  the  door — and  scaled  a  pillar  into  the 
box  where  stood  the  Rashleighs,  terrified,  yet  willing  to  listen  to 
reason,  while  Mr.  Wickham  reiterated  that  the  best  chance  of 
«at'ery  lay  in  presence  of  mind,  and  a  steady,  yet  hasty  progress 
toward  the  lobby. 

"The  pit  I"  said  Malcolm,  imperatively.  "Lower  the  ladies, 
and  then  leap  yourselves  into  the  pit  !  "We  can  reach  the  outer 
door  before  the  f-rowd  from  the  stairs  blocks  it  up.  Xow — now  1" 


486  NEMESIS. 

He  laid  hold  of  Katherine  s  arm,  and  she  felt  in  his  iron  grasf 
tiow  awful  was  his  sense  of  their  peril. 

"I  think,  sir" — began  Mr.  Wickham. 

"  It  is  no  time  to  think.     /  have  thought  !"   said  Malcolm 

vehemently.     "  Katheriue,  will  you  let  me  " 

~~  A  wilder  cry  of  alarm,  as  the  forked  tongues  of  flame,  with 
lightning  velocity,  ran  along  the  ceiling,  curled  and  spouted,  and 
wrapped  themselves  over  the  light  boards  that  pannelled  the  front 
of  the  bcxes. 

"  There  is  but  one  way  now  !"  and,  throwing  his  arm  about 
Katherine's  waist,  Malcolm  plunged  into  the  living  current  that 
surged  impetuously  into  the  narrow,  tortuous  stairs  and  lobbies. 

Lieutenant  Calvert  caught  up  the  fainting  form  of  his  betrothed 
and  followed,  while  the  two  elderly  gentlemen,  breast  to  breast, 
fouglit  bravely  to  win  a  path  from  death.  Still,  pressing  as  they 
thought  the  emergency,  they  miscalculated  the  swiftness  of  the 
triumphant  element.  The  piercing  shrieks  of  the  hapless  crea- 
tures who  were  in  the  hindermost  ranks,  testified  that  they  were 
already  in  its  scorching  embrace,  when  the  dazzling,  furious  glow 
grew  suddenly  dull,  and  a  column  of  pitchy  smoke  rolled  along 
the  roof,  filled  the  dome,  and,  extinguishing  every  light  in  its 
lownward  swoop,  fell — a  black-winged  Death — upon  the  strug- 
gling mass  of  human  beings.  Screams  and  moans  were  stifled — 
stilled  !  All  that  was  left  of  vital  fire,  within  the  inner  walls, 
went  out  in  oce  agonized  respiration,  as  the  victims  entered  the 
poisonous  cload — hot,  reeking  with  oily  vapors — as  it  were,  a 
breath  from  Gehenna  itself ! 

In  the  lobbies,  and  upon  the  staircases,  the  frantic  struggle  for 
life  went  on  in  utter  darkness;  behind,  the  roaring,  surging  flame; 
before  them,  an  impenetrable  wall  and  a  staircase,  piled  higher 
*nd  higher  with  the  bodies  of  living  and  dead.  Over  these,  rushed 
on  the  trampling,  wrestling  crowd.  Strong  men  climbed  upon 
tho  shoulders,  and  walked  upon  the  heads  of  the  compacted 


NEMESIS.  487 

throng  that  still  k">pt  their  feet ;  women  were  crashed  to  death 
in  the  press  ;  children  trodden  to  pieces. 

Yet,  the  ties  of  Nature  were  mighty.  Husbands  upbore  wivea 
with  superhuman  strength;  mothers  held  their  offspring  so  tightl) 
enclasped,  that  the  tremendous  force  of  the  outward  tide  could 
not  tear  them  away,  and  fathers,  with  arms  of  stone  and  thews  of 
steel,  lifted  their  sons  above  the  pressure  of  shoulders  and  heads. 

Katherine  had  spoken  but  once  in  the  dreadful  transit  : 

"  My  father !" 

'•'  Ts  an  able-bodied  man  ;  you,  a  feeble  woman  !" 

He  had  no  more  breath  to  spare,  even  to  console  her.  When 
the  cloud  of  smoke  fell,  they  were  still  some  paces  from  the  stair- 
case, and,  at  the  inhalation  of  the  noisome  vapor,  Malcolm  felt 
his  stout  heart  give  way.  Casting  his  eyes  up.  in  the  darkness, 
he  descried  the  faint  glimmer  of  the  sky  through  a  window. 
Summoning  all  the  muscular  energy  that  remained  to  him,  he 
threw  himself  against  the  lower  sash.  It  fell  outward,  and  the 
pure  air  of  heaven  pouring  in  through  the  opening,  brought  back 
departing  life  and  hope  to  many  beside  himself.  A  cry  of  mingled 
joy  and  anguish  went  up  from  the  sufferers,  and  there  was  an 
instant  rush  in  the  direction  of  the  casement. 

"  Trust  me  I"  said  Malcolm.  "  Your  safety  is  dearer  to  nie 
than  my  life  !" 

Katherine  felt  herself  raised  in  his  arms  as  he  spoke  ;  the  cold 
wind  blew  more  freshly  over  her,  and,  realizing  with  a  shudder 
what  was  his  desperate  resort,  she  shut  her  eyes  as  he  swung  her 
clear  of  the  building  and  let  her  go. 

A  pair  of  stout  arms  broke  her  fall. 

"  All  safe,  missis !  Bless  the  Lord !"  said  a  taH  negro 
whose  giant  frame  had  not  staggered  under  her  descending 
height. 

"  Gilbert — Gilbert  Bunt !"  called  out  a  voice  from  an  uppef 
window 


1-88  NEMESIS. 

The  man  hallooed  in  reply,  and  hastened  to  obey  the  summons 

Katherine  gazed  with  clasped  hands  arid  dilated  eyes  upon  th« 
casement  from  which  she  had  been  lowered.  By  the  light  of  tha 
flames  now  bursting  through  the  roof,  she  saw  Malcolm  maintain 
his  stand  within  against  the  crazed  creatures  swarming  over  him; 
eaw  him  lower  one  and  another  quickly,  gently,  as  he  had  done 
her  ;  heard  their  exclamations  of  thanksgiving  to  him  and  to 
Heaven,  as  each  reached  the  ground  in  safety.  From  windows, 
above  and  below,  forms  were  falling — some  headlong  and  shriek- 
ing— some  prone  and  unresisting — some  with  clothes  on  fire,  and 
within  that  funeral  pyre  were  her  father  and  her  lover,  while  she 
must  stand  inactive — see  all — hear  all — and  not  stir  to  save 
either  I 

A  fiercer,  more  agonized  yell  came  from  the  imprisoned 
wretches — marking,  as  she  afterward  knew,  the  sinking  of  th« 
staircase  under  its  accumulated  load  ;  and,  forgetting  the  self 
command  she  had  until  now  so  rigorously  preserved,  she  cried 
aloud : 

"  Malcolm — Malcolm  I     Oh,  come  to  me  1" 

He  heard — sent  one  hasty,  troubled  glance  over  the  horrified 
faces  flocking  about  the  inside  of  the  window,  extricated  himself 
from  clinging  hands  and  crowding  forms,  and — was  upon  the 
earth  beside  her  ! 

"  My  darling  !  you  are  saved  !     Thank  God  1" 

He  asked  not  whether  he  had  the  right.  For  one  rapturous 
instant  he  held  her  to  his  heart,  as  the  fervent  ejaculation  passed 
his  lips — for  one  second,  her  arm  was  about  his  neck  and  hei 
head  upon  his  breast ;  then  she  started  up. 

"  My  father  I     Oh,  where  is  he  ?" 

"  I  waited  for  him  as  long  as  I  dared.  I  trust  he  has  escaped 
by  the  door.  It  is  not  safe  to  stand  here.  See  1" 

The  licking  flames,  now  blent  into  one  vast,  quivering,  swaying 
oyramid,  arose  toward  the  strangely  serene  heavens.  The  uo 


N  K  M  K  8  I  9  .  489 

jqual  confict  was  at  an  cud  There  was  no  more  sound  of 
mortal  woe  within  those  trembling  walls.  The  Fire-Fieed  held 
nigh  carousal  where,  one  short  quarter  of  in  hour  before,  peaca 
and  pleasure  and  joy — the  enjoyment  that  "  takes  no  thought  for 
the  morrow  " — had  reigned  supreme. 


Eleanor  Moreati  still  lay  upon  the  bed  in  the  lethargic  stupor 
ihat  had  succeeded  to  the  tempest  of  warring  passions,  unheed- 
ing the  tumult  that  arose,  with  increasing  din,  without  ;  the 
hoarse  cries  and  trampling  of  hurrying  feet ;  the  discordant 
danger  of  the  alarm-bells  or  the  ruddy  reflection  from  the  distant 
tire  upon  the  white  wall  opposite  her  bed,  although  her  eyes  were 
open,  and  rested  upon  the  sanguinary  tinge.  She  scarcely  heard 
t.he  loud  knocking  at  her  door,  until  her  name  was  called  agaic 
and  again. 

"  Mrs.  Moreau  !  Mrs.  Moreau  1" 

Reeling  with  weakness  and  giddiness,  she  drew  back  the  bolt. 
A.  lady,  a  fellow  boarder  in  the  house,  stood  in  the  passage.  Her 
blenched  face  and  trembling  articulation  awoke  in  Eleanor,  a 
feeling  akin  to  impatience.  * 

"  What  do  you  want?  I  do  not  understand  you  !"  she  said, 
almost  rudely. 

Another  effort  and  the  words  came  out.  "  The  theatre  is 
'ourned  down  I  Where  is  your  husband  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  !  Why  do  you  ask  ?"  replied  Eleanor,  put- 
ting her  hand  to  her  head. 

"  Because  we  fear  that  he  was  there ! " 

The  vacant  stare  told  her  that  the  mind  did  not  receive  her 
meaning  and  the  lady  added — "  Will  yon  come  to  Mrs.  Rash- 
lei^h's  room  ?  We  may  learn  some  particulars  of  the  fire,  fronj 
y«»ur  U'other." 

91* 


4-90  NEMESIS. 

Eleanor  followed  her  to  the  sitting-room. 

Mrs.  Rashleigh  was  extended  upon  the  sofa,  jnst  recovering 
from  a  swoon  ;  Malcolm  supported  her,  his  hands  swollen  and 
blackened — his  hair  scorched.  Eleanor  noted  these  circum- 
stances with  dull  surprise.  Katherine  knelt  before  her  mother, 
and  chafed  her  hands,  unmindful  of  her  own  need  of  attention, 
for  her  dress  was  torn  and  dabbled  with  blood — not  her  own—- 
her shoes  were  gone,  and  her  hair  in  tangled  confusion. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Where  is  Colonel  Rashleigh  ?  Where 
is  Robert  ?"  demanded  the  bewildered  wife,  her  clouded  intelli- 
gence gathering  the  idea  of  some  horrible  catastrophe. 

Mrs.  Holt  tried  to  draw  her  away,  but  Mrs.  Rashleigh  had 
jeen  and  heard  her. 

Raising  herself  to  her  feet,  she  put  her  hands  together  and 
looked  upward — the  reluctant  homage  of  a  foiled  ambition  to  the 
Power  that  had  dashed  it  to  the  ground — 

"  VENGEANCE  is  MINE — I  WIL£  REPAY,  SAITH  THE  LOBD  !* 
and  she  fell  forward  in  another  and  more  deadly  faint. 


(f  X  M  E  8  I  8  .  491 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

OVER  i^wix'1!  v  *i:d  dear  old  Ben  Lomond,  the  home  of  Malcolm 
and  Kathertne,  there  hung  for  years,  one  cloud  ;  there  moved  in 
the  household  baud  one  figure,  that  was  a  continual  reminder  to 
the  husband  and  wife  of  a  dark  and  terrible  story — a  tragedy, 
Known  in  all  its  details,  only  to  themselves.  They  never  spoke  of 
It,  except  in  their  most  secret  conferences,  yet  both  knew  that  it 
was  never  forgotten,  for  an  instant,  while  that  pallid,  woe-stricken 
vvoman  sat  in  her  arm-chair,  beside  the  winter  fire,  or,  in  summer, 
in  the  airy  colonnade  overlooking  the  site  of  the  Hale's  cottage. 
She  was  always  habited  in  deep  black,  always  taciturn  and  un- 
smiling "  in  a  melancholy,"  said  the  neighbors,  and  from  Mrs. 
Holt,  the  only  member  of  the  family  who  could  be  induced  to 
converse  upon  the  one  great  event  of  her  life — the  burning  of  the 
Richmond  theatre,  they  learned  enough  to  beget  in  them  com- 
panion, unmingled  with  wonder,  for  the  widowed  m«ther  of  Ben 
Lomond's  mistress. 

The  ci-devant  governess  was  never  more  solemnly  important 
than  when  a  knot  of  curious  listeners  collected  in  her  room,  and 
Saving  shut  the  door,  begged  her  to  recount  the  particulars  of 
that  direful  night,  that  plunged  hundreds  of  families  into  mourn- 
ing. 

For  fifty  years,  save  one,  have  the  fervent  tones  of  prayer  and 
the  sweet  melody  of  holy  song,  floated  through  the  outer  court  of 
the  monumental  temple,  where  are  inurned  the  ashes  of  the  noble 
and  the  bravp-,  the  lovely,  and  the  beloved,  who  fell  npon  that 


4:92  NEMESIS. 

Nox  Irat  in  the  annals  of  Virginia's  fair  Capitol.  But  the  fatal 
spot  is  haunted  yet.  The  stranger's  foot  loiters  beside  the  simple 
and  time-stained  tomb,  while  he  reads  the  record  of  the  slain,  and 
a  troop  of  horrified,  struggling,  despairing  phantoms  seems  to 
encircle  him,  as  he  lingers  over  the  list  ;  the  bright,  calm  day  is 
changed  into  the  lurid  illumination  of  the  Death  Festival,  and 
heart-sick  and  shuddering,  he  turns  away.  The  Commonwealth 
still  mourns  the  ornaments  of  her  high  places,  and  in  many,  many 
homes,  the  date  of  that  Christmas  merrymaking  is  marked  by  a 
cross  of  blood  ;  is  never  named  but  in  whispers,  with  pale  lipa 
and  .aching  hearts. 

One  wet  August  afternoon,  Mrs.  Holt  rehearsed  the  dismal 
story,  to  five  or  six  young  girls,  visitors  at  the  hospitable  home- 
Btead.  They  clustered  closely  about  her  ;  sitting  upon  stools  and 
the  floor — some  in  the  laps  of  others,  for  the  narrator's  tones  wera 
mysteriously  low,  and  with  the  horror  inspired  by  the  tale,  came 
the  disposition  to  keep  near  together. 

"  What  a  mercy  it  was  that  you  did  not  go,  Mrs.  Holt  1"  said 
one. 

"  You  are  quite  correct,  my  dear.  Yet  I  am  surprised  in  the 
retrospect,  that  I  chose  a  quiet,  intellectual  conversation  witl 
Mrs.  Wickham,  instead  of  the  entertainment  of  the  play-house 
I  thought  then,  that  my  decision  grew  out  of  my  contempt  for 
the  stamp  of  the  performances  for  that  evening.  Of  the  legiti- 
mate drama,  I  was  always  an  enthusiastic  admirer.  But  I  have 
since  reflected,  with  reverence  and  gratitude,  that  my  action  was 
rather  an  illustration  of  the  truth,  so  beautifully  expressed  by  the 
great  poet — 

"  There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends 
Rough-hew  them  as  we  may." 

"  Was  it  ever  known  how  the  house  took  fire  ?" 

"  Never  definitely.     Tlie  must  probable  story  WHS  that  it  wa» 


NEMESIS  49S 

communicated  to  one  of  the  painted  scenes  by  the  lifting  of  a 
chandelier,  which  by  some  unaccountable  oversight,  was  not  ex- 
tinguished when  it  was  raised  out  of  the  way." 

"  And  when  you  and  Mrs.  Wickham  heard  the  alarm,  anc 
where  the  Ore  was,  you  ran  down  to  the  theatre  ?"  prompted  an 
auditor,  who  had  heard  the  recital  before. 

'•  We  did — without  a  moment's  delay,  or  bonnet  or  cloak — cold 
though  the  night  was.  I  shall  never  forget  Mrs.  Wickham'a 
scream,  when  we  caught  sight  of  the  building — the  fire  bursting 
through  the  roof,  and  the  wailing  forms  that  filled  the  windows. 
The  fire  seemed  even  then,  feeding  upon  them.  The  first  person 
Mrs.  Wickham  recognized  was  a  negro-man,  who  stood  under  one 
of  the  windows,  catching  the  poor  women  who  were  dropped 
into  his  arms  by  a  gentleman  in  the  Tipper  story. 

"  '  O,  Gilbert!'  she  cried.  'Have  you  seen  my  daughter  ? 
'  No,  madam,'  he  said,  mournfully ;  and  then  the  gentleman 
called — '  Here  is  one  more  !'  and  lowered  a  large  female,  under 
whose  fall,  the  man  himself  went  to  the  ground." 

"Was  he  hurt?" 

"  I  learned,  subsequently,  that  he  was  not,  and  that  he  saved 
the  life  of  the  gentleman  also,  a  physician  of  the  city,  who  was 
/amed  by  entangling  his  foot  in  a  projecting  hinge,  as  ha  leaped 
out.  The  brave  black  rescued  him,  as  the  walls  were  tottering, 
and  bore  him  away  in  his  arms.  In  one  minute  more  the  building 
fell  to  the  ground."* 

"  But  I  saw  nothing  of  this,  for  I  followed  the  unhappy  mother, 

sh%  ran  into  the  crowd,  seeking  ^her  husband  and  her  child. 
She  found  Mr.  Wickham  contending  violently  with  the  humane 
friends  who  would  not  let  him  rush  back  into  the  house  to  look 

*  This  incident  is  literally  true,  as  indeed  are  all  the  particulars  of  the 
conflagration    and    the    escape  of  the    sufferers.     Gilbert    Hunt   still  (in 
plies    his    trade,   which    is    that    of   a    blacksmith,    in    Richmond, 
Virginia. 


t  NEMESIS. 

for  his  daughter  She  had  been  close  behind  him,  and  supported 
by  her  betrothed,  near  the  head  of  the  staircase,  and  then 
descended  the  dense  suffocating  smoke  that  killed  more  than  the 
flame  did,  and  it  was  supposed  that  they  all  went  down  together 
—Colonel  Rashleigh,  and  the  ill-fated  lovers — to  rise  no  more. 
'  They  were  lovely,  and  pleasant  in  their  lives,  and  in  their  deaths 
they  were  not  divided.' " 

"  And  Mr.  Wickham — how  did  he  escape  '/" 

"  He  fell,  providentially,  against  a  partition,  with  his  mouth 
close. to  a  crack,  and  the' stream  of  air  from  without,  revived  him 
M>  far  that  he  was  able  to  roll  himself  down  the  stairs.  Wliile 
he  was  striving  with  those  who  held  him,  there  came  a  crash  and  a 
fearful  cry,  and  it  was  announced  that  the  staircase  had  broken 
down,  thus  cutting  off  all  hope  of  escape  except  through  the 
windows.  From  these,  the  miserable  sufferers  continued  to  fall 
for  a  few  minutes  more,  and  then  all  was  over.  Men  and 
women,  young  and  old  were, 

'  In  one  red  burial  blent.' 

Their  dust  returned  to  the  earth,  and  their  spirits  to  God 
who  gave  them." 

After  an  awed  silence,  another  spoke.  "  Where  were  Mr 
and  Mrs.  Argyle,  when  you  found  them  ?" 

"  At  the  door  ;  there  was  but  one  to  pit  and  boxes  !  Hence, 
the  terrible  loss  of  life.  Mr.  Argyle  had  just  returned  from 
travelling  in  the  South,  and  knew  nothing  of  Miss  Rashleigh's 
being  in  the  city,  until  he  saw  her  across  the  theatre,  soon  after 
he  entered  the  house,  while  she  did  not  notice  him  before  the 
alarm,  of  '  fire '  was  raised.  Then,  with  the  courage  and  presence 
df  mind  for  which  he  is  distinguished,  he  leaped  into  the  pit,  and 
hurrying  over  to  her,  besought  her  to  do  the  same.  There  waa 
no  tim«  to  explain  what  was  afterward  made  but  too  evident^ 


NEMESIS.  495 

aamely,  that  if  th.ise  in  the  lower  tier  of  boxes  had  jumped  into 
the  pit,  they  could  have  gained  the  common  entrance-door  in  a 
shorter  time  than  by  the  staircase,  and  also  left  more  room  for 
those  whose  seat.s  were  higher  up.  The  pit  was  cleared  very  quickly, 
and  not  one  of  its  occupants  was  lost.  Mr.  Wickham  never 
to  deplore  his  resistance  to  Mr.  Argylc's  proposal,  which 
wquld,  humanly-speaking,  have  saved  the  lives  of  the  whole 
But  Mr.  Argyle  was  personally  unknown  to  him,  and 
none  of  them  suspected  the  magnitude  of  the  peril.  While 
Colonel  Rashleigh  and  Mr.  Wickham  withheld  the  ladies  and 
ilcpivcatcd  the  precipitancy  of  the  multitude,  the  fire  caught  the 
drop-curtain  and  the .  boxes,  and  but  a  single  chance  of  life 
.•emained  to  him.  Mrs.  Argyle  once  told  me,  that  it  seemed  to 
her  that  hours  were  spent  in  their  passage  to  the  window  from 
which  Mr.  Argyle  let  her  down,  yef  it  was  scarcely  ten  minutes 
from  the  time  the  alarm  was  given,  and  the  rescue  of  the 
last  living  creature  from  the  burning  building.  So  true  is  it, 
that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.' " 

"  How  did  Mr.  Moreau  perish  ?"  was  asked,  after  another  pause 
"  It  was  never  known.  There  were  two  other  gentlemen  from 
this  county  with  him.  One  of  them,  Mr.  Woodson,  leaped  from 
a  high  window — for  they  sat  in  the  third  tier — and  had  his  leg 
fractured  by  the  concussion.  He  is  still  living,  a  hopeless  cripple, 
in  or  near  Richmond.  Mr.  Bancroft,  who  was  a  very  agile 
man,  attempted  to  make  his  way  over  the  heads  of  the  throng, 
but  while  so  doing,  was  precipitated  down  the  staircase  when  it 
lell,  and  finally  drawn  out  of  the  mass  of  prostrate  bodies,  by  a 
fireman.  His  internal  bruises  were  so  serious,  that  he  did  not 
survive  his  hurt  above  a  week.  Neither  of  these  gentlemen  had 
any  recollection  of  seeing  Mr.  Moreau  after  they  left  the  bench 
on  which  they  had  been  sitting  together.  It  was  an  hour  that 
'  tried  men's  souls,'  aud  the  '  first  /aw  of  Nature,'  was  the  on« 
regarded." 


• 

NEMESIS. 

"  We  were  still  looking  and  inquiring  for  ColOiiel  Rasbleigh, 
i?hen  Mrs.  Rashleigh  appeared.  She  was  an  extremely  delicate 
woman,  yet  she  had  run  every  step  of  the  way,  from  her  board' 
ing-house  to  the  theatre — fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Her  cry,  as 
her  daughter  spoke  to  her,  is  ringing  in  my  ears  now,  and  sh* 
3auk  senseless  in  her  arms.  We  took  her  back  to  the  tavern, 
nd  there  remained  the  sad  duty  of  telling  Mrs.  Moreau  of  her 
husband's  probable  fate.  She  could  not,  or  would  not  believe  it 
until  days  had  gone  by.  She  appeared  to  be  completely  stunned 
by  the  stroke." 

"  Mrs.  Rashleigh's  mind  received  a  slight  shock — did  it  not  ?" 
was  the  cautiously-worded  query  that  veiled  intense  curiosity. 

"  I  fear  so  !  She  was  never  a  demonstrative  or  talkative 
person,  and  I  had  no  conception  of  the  depth  of  her  devotion  to 
her  husband  and  child,  prior  to  this  lamentable  event.  We 
despaired  of  her  reason,  for  weeks  after  we  returned  home.  Buf 
she  was  adjudged  capable  of  administering  upon  her  husband'? 
estate.  One  of  the  first  uses  she  made  of  her  restored  faculties 
was  to  dismiss  a  suit  which  Colonel  Rashleigh  had  ordered  to  b» 
instituted  against  the  father  of  Mr.  Sancroft,  the  unhappy  young 
man  of  whom  I  spoke  just  now.  She  sent  for  the  old  gentleman, 
and  had  a  long,  private  conference  with  him,  and  then  instructed 
her  lawyer  to  suspend  the  proceedings  against  him.  He  removed 
from  the  county,  shortly  afterward." 

It  was  as  the  literal,  yet  unsuspecting  governess  had  stated. 
Without  an  effort  to  resume  the  functions  of  her  office,  the 
Nemesis  had  submitted  to  her  dethronement,  and  henceforth,  no 
ilo;j$tcred  nun  led  a  life  of  more  rigorous  seclusion— more  gloomy 
elf-abnegation.  The  possessor  of  a  hapdsome  fortune,  she  lived 
as  abstemiously  as  an  anchorite.  Her  room  in  her  daughter's 
house  was  furnished  as  simply  as  the  master  and  mistress  of  the 
mansion  would  allow,  and  her  dress  was  devoid  of  any  appear- 
(Mice  of  ornament  Her  almsgivings  were  liberal  to  extrav* 


NEMESIS.  497 

gance,  and  bestowed  as  privately  as  possible.  She  never  attended 
public  divine  service,  yet  her  daily  drive,  except  when  Malcolm 
prohibited  it,  because  of  very  stormy  weather,  was  to  the  hili 
behind  the  church,  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Argyle  were  now 
devout  worshippers.  There  she  would  sit  for  hours,  at  the  foot 
of  the  lonely  grave,  Mark's  Bible  and  her  thoughts  for  her  com- 
panions. Her  affectionate  children  could  not  but  hope  that  she 
was  slowly  feeling  her  way  to  light  and  truth,  although  they  dared 
not  invade  the  solitude  of  her  cpmmunings  with  the  Past,  and 
with  Him,  who  had  overruled  the  wrathful  purposes  of  His  crea- 
ture, as  He,  in  His  inscrutable  providence  deemed  best.  Besides 
the  reverse  of  her  previous  intentions  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Bancroft, 
she  gave  another  and  more  Signal  proof  of  the  revolution  wrought 
in  her  feelings,  by  defraying  all  Mr.  Moreau's  just  debts,  and 
settling  his  estate,  thus  disencumbered,  upon  his  children.  Mrs. 
Moreau  she  never  saw  after  the  night  that  made  them  both 
widows. 

Nor  was  the  yourger  lady  more  inclined  to  the  meeting.  She, 
too,  had  undergone  a  great  change.  Montrouge  ceased  to  ba 
the  rendezvous  of  the  gay  youth  of  the  vicinity.  Its  mistress* 
law,  despotic  as  ever,  ruled  out  all  species  of  fashionable  dissipa- 
tion, and  the  judicious  expenditures  and  improvements  of  the 
plantation  were  controlled  exclusively  by  herself.  Her  sons  re- 
spected and  obeyed  the  mother,  whose  strictness  repressed  any 
excessive  outgoings  of  love  they  might  otherwise  have  felt  for 
then*  only  parent,  and  they  bade  fair,  under  her  guardianship,  to 
grow  up  into  upright,  honorable  men.  One  person,  alone,  of  all 
who  owned  her  sway,  was  ever  indulged  or  spoiled  by  kindness. 
This  was  the  "  baby  Xelly,"  who  had  been  the  father's  darling. 
Did  he  look  up  through  those  innocent  eyes  into  the  stern 
mother's  face  ?  Was  there,  in  her  infantine  coaxings,  any  tone 
that  reminded  her  of  his  last  plaintive  words,  as  she  drove  him 
from  Lev  into  his  fiery  grave  ?  The  Searcher  of  hearts  only  knew  1 


NEMESIS. 

It  was  certain  that  she  never  uttered  his  name  ;  it  was  a?  certah 
that  she  never  forgot  him. 

When  a  black-eyed  daughter  was  given  to  Katherine's  arms, 
she  wished  .to  name  it  "Bessy;"  but  her  mother  positively,  yet 
quietly  forbade  it,  and  the  father  called  it  by  the  pet  title  he  had 
restored,  since  their  marriage,  to  his  lost  and  found  playmate. 

Three  years  later,  little  u  Kitty  "  was  made  supremely  happy 
by  the  present  of  a  baby-brother.  All  other  rejoicings  than  hers 
were  subdued  by  the  shadow  lengthening  over  the  household — 
the  approaching  dissolution  of  Mrs.  Rashleigh.  Her  decline  was '' 
gradual,  and  seemingly  peaceful  as  painless.  The  day  before  she 
died,  Miss  Barbara,  still  hale  in  her  useful  old  age,  brought  the 
tooy-heir  in  her  arms  to  his  grandmother's  bedside,  and  presented 
•  petition  from  his  mother,  that  she  would  ratify  the  name  which 
had  been  bestowed  upon  him. 

A  sweet  smile  lighted  up  the  wasted  features. 

"  Lay  him  here  !"  she  said,  stretching  out  her  arm  upon  the 
pillow. 

Miss  Barbara  complied,  and  the  dying  eyes  looked  steadfastly 
upon  the  infant,  whose  mystery  of  life  was  beginning  as  hers 
ended.  » 

Then,  laying  her  other  hand  apon  his  head,  she  said,  solemnly, 
"  The  God  of  your  grandfather  bless  you,  Mark  Hale  !"  and 
Miss  Barbara  added  a  tearful  "  Amen  !" 

They  buried  her,  as  she  had  desired,  beside  her  husband,  and 
although  her  epitaph  did  not  bespeak  the  same  certainty  of  a 
blessed  rest  as  did  his,  there  was  in  the  hearts  of  her  children  and 
old  friend,  a  sustaining  hope  that  she  was  partaker  with  her 
beloved  one,  of  the  heaverly  heritage  ;  .that  the  calm  ray  at 
'"*  evening-time,"  was  a  foretoken  of  light  celestial  and  eternal. 

With  reverent  hands  and  many  tears,  Malcolm  and  Katherin* 
examined  the  relics  she  had  bequeathed,  with  everything  else,  tt 
them.  Over  the  worn  trunk  that  had  gone  with  her  through  al! 


tc  K  MI  :  8  I  3  . 


Her  cbamres  of  fortune  ;.nd  place,  they  lin^'-red  longest  and  most 
fiadly.  It  contained  Kitty's  doll,  manufactured  by  the  fai IHT'S 
hands,  for  her  first  Christmas-box  ;  a  full  suit  of  his  apparel.  tii? 
dark-blue  cloth  free  from  moth  and  dust,  the  linen  neatly  folceii  ; 
and  underneath  all,  the  sign  once  affixed,  with  such  guil  (J«B 
pride,  to  the  cottage  wall — 


MARK     HALE, 

•aOIMAKSB. 


1883. 


NEW 

AND  NEW  EDITIONS 


The  Publishers,  on  receipt  of  price,  will  send  any  book 
on  this  Catalogue  by  \n<\\\,  postag<>  free. 

All  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt  backs  suitable  for  libraries. 
Mary  <J.  I. Dimes'  ITove's. 


Tempest  and  Sunshine 

English  Orphans 

Homestead  on  the  Hillside 

'Lena  Rivers 

Meadow  Brook 

Dora  Deane 

Cousin  Maude 

Marian  Grey 

Edith  Lyle 

Daisy  Thornton 

Chateau  D'Or 

Queeoie  Hetherton.  ...(New). ... 

Charles  Dickens— 15 

Pickwick  and  Catalogue $ 

Dcmbey  and  Son 

Bleak  House     

Martin  Chuzzlewit 

Barnaby  Rudge— Edwin  Drood. 
Child's  England — Miscellaneous 
Christmas  Books — Two  Cities.. 
Oliver  Twist— Uncommercial  .. 

Marion 

Alone $ 

Hidden  Path 

Moss  Side 

Nemesis 

Miriam 

Augusta 

Beulah $ 

Ivlacana 

Inez..  . 


Darkness  and  Daylight 
Hugh  Wortliingtou 
Cameron  Pride.. 


Rose  Mather. 


Ethelyn's  Mistake. 

Ivullbank 

Edna  Browning  .  . 


West  Lawn. 


Mildred 


Forrest  House.. . 
Madeline (New). 


Christmas  Stories— and  portrait.. 
Vols  — "  Carleton's  Edition.  ' 

David  Copperfield g 

t.icholas  Nickleby...- .. 

Little  Dorrit 

Our  Mutual  Friend 

Curiosity  Shop — Miscellaneous. 
Sketches  by  Boz — Hard  Times. 
Great  Expectations— Italy  .  .. 
Full  Sets  in  half  caif  bindings 5 


!  ' 


Harland's  Novels. 


At  Last ! 

Sunny bank 

K.iby's  Husband 

My  Little  Love 

True  as  Steel (New) 

f.  Evans'  Novels. 

St.  Elmo ! 

Vashti 

Infeli 


.(New). 


Carleton's  Popular  Quotations. 

Carleton's  New  Hand  Book— Familiar  Quotations,  with  their  authorship.. $i 
Carleton's  Classical  Dictionary — A  Condensed  Mythology  for  popular  use. 


G.   W.  CARLETON  &  CO.'S  2'UBLICATIONS. 


May  Agnes  Fleming's  Novels 


Guy  Earlscourt's  Wife. ..".7 £ii  50 

A  Wonderful  Woman i  50 

A  Terrible  secret..    i  50 

A  Mad  Marriage i  50 

Norine's  Revenge 155 

One  Night's  Mystery. i  50 

Kate  Danton i  50 

Silent  and  True   i  50 

Maude  Percy's  Secret.  ..(New). .    i  50. 

AHan  1'iiikerton's  "W^orhs. 


Expressmen  and  Dctectiv 

Molli  •  Maguires  and  Detectives. .  i  30 

Somnambulists  and  Detectives...  i  50 

Claude  Melnotte  and  Detectives.,  i  50 

Criminal  Reminiscences,  etc. ...  i  50 

Rail-Read  Forger,  etc i  50 

Bank  i<obbers  and  Detectives  ....  i  50 


Thrown  on  the  World §i  50 

A  Bitter  Atonement i  50 

Love  Works  Wonders i  50 

Evelyn's  Folly   i  50 

Under  a  Shadow i  50 

Deyond  Pardon (New) 15°. 

"New  York  Weekly'    Series. 


Heir  of  Charlton. 

Carried  by  Storm 

Lost  for  a  Woman 

A  Wife's  Tragedy 

A  Changed  heart.... 

Pride  and  Passion 

Sharing  Her  Crime 

A  Wronged  Wife  . .  (isew)... 


Bertha  ClaT  s  Novels. 


Gypsies  and  Detectives 

Spiritualists  and  Detectives... 
Model  'iown  and  Detectives... 

Strikers.  Communists,  etc 

Mississippi  Outlaws,  etc 

Bucholz  and  Detectives 

Burglar's  i- ate  and  Detectives. 


A  Woman's  Temptation 

Repented  at  Leisuie 

A  Struggle  for  a  Ring  

Lady  Darner's  Secret 

Between  Two  Loves. .  .New). 


Brownie's  Triumph — SheMon..  ..$i  50 
1  he  Forsaken  Bride.  do.  ...  i  50 
Earl  Wayne's  Nobility,  do.  ...  i  50 
Lost,  a  Pearle —  do.  ...  i  50 

*>  oun1;  Mrs.  Charnleigh-Henshc'V  i  50 

His  Other  Wife— Ashleigh i  50 

A  Woman's  Web — Maitland i  50 

Miriam  Coles 


Rutledge §  i  5 

Frank  Warrington ..150 

l.cuie's  Last  Term,  St.  Mary's.,   i  50 

Missy i  50 

A  Perfect  Adonis  i  50 


Curse  of  Everleigh — Pierce... 

Peerless  Cathleen — Aenew 

Faithful  Margaret — A.ilnnore 

Nick  Whiffles — :  obinsou 

Grinder  Papers— Dallas 

Lady  Leonora — Conklin 


f«w?rfs'  Novell 


True  to  the  Last 


The  Star  and  the  Cloud 150 

How  Could  He  Help  it  ? i  50 


The  Suthei lands 

St.  Philips 

Round  Hearts  for  Children.. . 
Richard  Vandermarck    ....   . 
Happy  Go-Lucky. ...  (New).. . 
A.  S.  Roe's"  Select  Stories. 

i  50!  Al-ongLook  Ah;  ad 


I've  Been  Thinking. 

To  Lcve  and  to  be  Loved 


Julio  P.  SinitVs  Novels. 

V/idow  Goldsmith's  Daughter.  £i  50     The  Widower. 


The  Married  Belle 

Courting  and  Farming 

Kiss  and  be  Friends 

Blossom  Bud...   (New) 


Chris  and  Otho 150 

Ten  Old  Maids 150 

Lucy i  50 

His  Young  Wife j  50 

Artemas  "Ward. 
Complete  Comic  Writings — With  Biography,  Portrait  and  50  illustrations. 

The  Game  of  Whist. 
Pole  on  Whist — The  English  standard  work.     With  the  "  Portland  Rules" 

Victor  Hugo's  Great  Kovel.  • 
Les  Miserables — Translated  from  the  French.      The  only  complete  edition. . 

*~  rs.  Hill's  ••  cok  Book 
Mrs.  A.  P.  Hill's  New  Southern  Cookery  Book,  and  domestic  receipts.. 

CfL'a  >".  C^ardner's  Novels. 
Stolen  Waters.     (Inverse) §i   =o     Tested. 


i   50 
I   50 


i  50 
i  50 
i  5° 
i  5" 


i  50 
i  50 


1  50 
i  50 


Broken  Dreams. 
Compensation. 
A  Twisted  Skein_ 


do 

do.. 
do. 


Rich  Medway 

A  Woman's  Wiles.. 
Terrace  Roses .... 


2  00 
T  30 

1  5" 
I  5° 
i  50 


G.  W.  CARLE  TON  &*  COSS  PUBLICATIONS.              3 

Captain 

The  Scalp  Hunters  

Mayne  Reid's  'Works. 

...§150     The  White  Chief  

The  Tiger  Hunter  ... 

The  War  Trail         

The  Hunter's  Feast... 

The  Wood  Rangers  

...    i  50 

Wild  Life   

i  50 

Wild  Huntress... 

..    i  50 

Osceola.  the  Seminole.. 

..      I     iO 

Haud-Bocks  of  Society. 

The  Habits  of  Good  Society  —  The  nice  points  of  taste  and  eood  manners  ____ 

The  Art  of  Conversation  —  i  •'••*  t  .>.-,c  wlu>  wish  to  be  agreeable  talkers  ......  .. 

The  Arts  of  Writing.  Reading  and  Speaking  —  For  Self-Improvement  ..... 

New  Diamond  Edition  —  Tiie  above  three  books  in  one  volume  —  small  type.... 

Josh  Billings. 

His  Complete  Writings  —  With  Bi..grau!iy,  Steel  Portrait  and  100  Illustrations. 
Old  Probability  —  Tea  Comic  Aimiuux,  1870101879.     In  one  volume,  Illustrated, 

Charles  Dickens. 

Child's  History  of  England  —  With  Historical  Illustrations  for  School  use.  . 
Parlor  Table  Album  of  Dickens'  Illustrations  —  With  descriptive  text  ...... 

Lord  Bateman  Ballad  —  Cdfcic  Notes  by  Dickens  ;   Pictures  by  Cruikshank.  .. 

Annie  Edwardes'  Novels. 
Stephen  Lawrence  .............  §     75     A  Woman  of  Fashion  .......... 

Susan  Fielding  .................        75  I  Archie  Lovell  ...... 

Ernest  Kenan's  French  Works. 


§ 


The  Life  of  Jesus.     Translated. .  .§i  75 


The  Life  of  St.  Paul.   Translated. §i  75 
The  BiBle  in  India — Byjacolkot..    2  oo 


Lives  of  the  Apostles.    Do.      ...    i  75 

G.  W.  Carleton. 

Our  Artist  in  Cuba,  Peru,  Spam  and  Algiers— 150  Caricatures  of  Travel 

M.  M.  Pomerny  (Brick) 


Sen&e.     A  serious  book §i  50 

Gold  Dust.       I  Jo i  5, 

Our  Saturday  Nights.. 


Nonsense.     (A  comic  book)  ....... 

Brick-dust.  Do. 

Home  Harmonies 


$i 


Miscellaneous  Works. 


The  Children's  Fairy  Geography  —  With  hundreds  of  beautiful  illustration-;.  .§i 

Carleton's  Popular  Readings  —  Edited  by  Anna  Randall  Diehl.     2  vols.,  each  i 

Laus  Veneris.  and  other  Poems  —  By  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  ...........  i 

Sawad-off  Sketches  —  Comic  book  by  "  Detroit  Free  Press  Man.'1  Illustrated.  .  I 

Hawk-eye  Sketches  —  Comic  book  by  "  Burlington  Hawkeye  Man."     Do.       ..  i 

Naj^hty  Girl's  Diary—  By  the  author  of  "A  B.id  Boy's  Diary."         Do.       ..  i 

The  Culprit  Fay  —  Joseph  Rodman  Drake's  Poem.     With  TOO  illustrati  ns  .....  2 

L'Assommoir  —  An  English  Translation  from  Zola's  famous  French  novel  .......  i 

Parlor  Amusements  —  Games,  Tricks,  Home  Amusements,  by  Frank  Bel 

Love  [L1  Amour]  —  English  Translation  from  Michelct's  famous  French  work.  .  .  i 

Woman  [La  Femme]  —  The  Sequ-.l  to  "  1,'Amour"        Do.            Do.            ...  i 

Verdant  Green  —  A  ra                                              With  200  comic  illustrations  ----  i 

Clear  Light  from  the  Spirit  World  —  By  Kate  Irving  ......................  i 

Bottom  Facts  Concerning  Spiritualism  —  By  John  W.  Tiuesdell  ...... 

Why  Wife  and  I  Quarreled  —  P.iein  by  the  author  of  "  Betsey  and  I  are  Out"  i 

A  Northern  Governess  at  the  Sunny  Soutii  —  By  Professor  J.  H.  Ingraham.  i 

Birds  of  a  Feather  Flock  Together  —  By  Edward  A.  Sothern,  the  actor  ......  i 

Vachtman's  Primer  —  Correct  Instructions  for  Amateur  Sailors.     By  Warren.. 

Longfellow's  Home  Life  —  By  Blanche  Roosevelt  Machetta.     I!!ust-nt  d  ____  i 

Kedbird's  Christmas  Story  —  An  Illustrated  Juvenile.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes.  .. 
Every-Day  Home  Advice  —  For  Household  and  Domestic  Economy  ..... 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Etiquette  Book  of  the  best  Fashionable  Society.,  i 

;  Love  and  Marriage                         unmarried  people.     By  Frederick  Saunders.  .  i 

i  Uiid^r  the  Rose  —  A  Capital  bcok,  by  the  author  of  "  1  ast  Lym.e."  ...........  .  i 

So  Daar  a  Dream-                          'iss  Grant,  author  of  "The  Sun  Maid."  ......  i 

Give  me  thine  Heart  —  A  capital  new  domestic  Love  Story  by  Roe  ...........  i 

Meeting  Her  Fate  —  A  charming  novel  by  the  author  of  "Aurora  Floyd."  ......  i 

Faithful  to  the  End  —  A  delightful  domestic  novel  by  Roe.  ..-  ...............  i 

So  True  a  Love—  A  novel  by  Miss  Grant,  author  of  "The  Sun  Maid."  .......  i 


•  ' 

5° 
' 
I 


G.  W.  CARLE  TON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


Humorous  'Works. 

Abijah  Beanpole  in  New  York..  $     50      WesUndiaJPickles.  W.P.Talboys.$i 


Never — Companion  to  "  Don't." 
Always — By  author  of  "  Never.".. 

St,.p — By  author  of  "  Never." 

The  Fall  of  Man — A  satire 

Chronicles  of  Gotham — A  satire.. 

The  Comic  Liar— By  Alden 

Cats,  Cooks,  etc.— By  E.  T.  Ely.. 


Bad  Boy's  Reader — Frank  Bellew.  10 

Store  Drumming  as  a  Fine  Art.  50 

Mrs.  Spriggins— By  Widow  Bedotr.  i  50 

Phemie  Frost — Ann  S.  Strphens..  i  50 

That  Awful  Boy— N.Y.  Weekly..  5c 

1  hat  Bridget  at  Ours.  Do.          ..  50 

Orpheus  C.  Kerr— Four  vols. in  one.  2  oo 


Miscellaneous   V.  orks. 

Dawn  to  Noon—  By  Violet  Fane.  ...§i  50'  Gospels  in  Poetry — E  H.KimbalLJi 


Constance's  Fate.          Do.         ...  150 

French  Love  Songs— Translated.  50 

Lion  Jack — By  P.  T.  Barnum i  50 

Ja.-k  in  the  Jungle.     Do.         i  50 

How  to  Win  in  Wall  Street 50 

The  Life  of  Sarah  Earnhardt 25 

Arctic  Travels— By  Dr.  Hayes i  50 

Whist  for  Beginners 25 

Flashes  from  "  Ouida." i  25 

Lady  Blake's  Love  Lettsrs 25 

Lone  Ranch — By  Mayne  Reid i  50 

The  Train  Boy — Horatio  Al;or. . ..  i  25 

Dan,  The  Detective.     Do.        ....  125 


Miscellaneous  Novels. 


Me— By  Mrs.  Spencer  W.  Coe 

Don  Quixote.      Illustrated i  co 

Arabian  Nights.      Do i  oo 

Robinson  Crusoe.    Do. i  oo 

Swiss  Family  Robinson — Illus..  i  oo 
Debatable  Land  -  R.  Dale  Owen..  2  oo 
1  hreading  My  Way.  Do. 
SpiritualUm— By  D.  D.  Home.... 
fanny  Fern  Memorials — Parton. 
Northern  Ballads — K.L.Anderson 
Offenbach's  Tour  in  America. ... 
Stories  about  Doctors — JeffreS'in. 
Stories  about  Lawyers.  Do. 


5° 


Doctor  Antonio — By  Ruffini §i  50 

Beatrice  Cenci — From  the  Italian,  i  50 

Madame — By  Frank  Lee  Benedict,  i  50 

A  Late  Remorse.             Do.  i  50 

Hammer  and  Anvil.       Do.  i  50 

Her  Friend  Laurence.    Do.  i  j-> 

Prairie  Flower — Emerson  B«nnett.  t  50 

J=ssica— By  Mrs.  W.  H.  White   ...  i   50 

Women  of  To-Day      Do i  50 

Tiie  Baroness — Joaqtiin  Mi'.'.er i  50 

One  Fair  Woman.     Do.           i  50 

The  Burnhams — Mrs.G.E.St:wart  2  oo 

Eugene  Ridgewood — Paul  James  i  50 

Braxtoi's  Bar— R.  M.  Dag^ett...  i  50 

Miss  Beck — By  Tilbury  Holt i   50 

Sub  Rosi— By  Chas.  T.  Murray...  50 

Hilda  and  I — Mrs.  B- lell  Benjamin  i  50 

A  College  Widow — C.H.Seymour  i  50 

Shiftless  Folks — Fannie  Smith. ...  i  30 

Peace  Pelican.               Do i  50 

Price  oJ  a  Life — R.  Forbes  Sturgis.  i  50 

Hidden  Power— T.  H.  Tibbies. ...  i  50 

Two  cf  Us — Calista  Halsey.    ....  75 

Cupid  on  Crutches— A.  B.  Wood.  75 

ParsonThorne — K.M. Buckingham  i  50 

Marston  hall— L.  Ella  Byrd. . i  50 

Errors—  By  Rnth  Carter i  50 

Unmistakable  Flirtation — Garner  75 

Wild  Oats — Florence  Marryatt     ..  :   50 

Widow  Cherry — !!.  L.  Farjeon...  25 

I  Solomon  Isaacs.         Do.            ...  50 

i  Doctor  Mortimer — Fannie  Bean. .  i   50 

I  Two  Brides- Bernard  O'Reilly...  i  50 

Vesta  Vane— L.  Kin-,  R i  50 

Louise  and  I — By  Chas.  Dodge..  .  i  50 

My  Queen — BySandette.    ........  i   =o 

Fallen  among  Thieves — Rayne..  150 


Saint  Leger— Richard  K.  Kimball.$i 

Was  He  successful  ?            Do.  i 

Undercurrents  of  Wall  St.  Do.  i 

Rc-inance  of  Student  Life.  Do.  i 

To-day.                                  -    1  >o.  i 

Life  in  San  Domingo.           Do.  i 

Henry  Powers.  Banker.       Do.  i 

Led  Astray — By  <  ><  lave  Feuillct..  i 

She  Loved  Him  Madly — Borys..  i 

Truck  and  Thir.— Mc-ry '. .  .  i 

So  Fair  yet  False — (  havette i 

A  Fatal  Passion — C.  Bernard i 

Marguerite's  Journal — Kor  Giils.  i 

Rose  of  Memphis— W.  C.  Falkner.  i 
Spell-Bound — Alexandre  Dnmas. . 

Purple  nnd  Fine  Linen — Fawcett.  i 

Pauli  ie's  Trial — L.  D.  Courtney,  i 

The  Forgiving  KisL — M.  Loth....  i 

Loyal  unto  Death i 

Ci.arette — An  American  novel i 

Fairfax — By  John  Esten  Cooke. i 

Hilt  to  Hilt.                      Do i 

Out  of  the  Foam.           Do i 

Hammer  and  Rapier.  Do i 

Kenneth— By  Miss  S.illie  A.  Brock,  i 

Heart  Hungry.  Mrs. Westmoreland  i 

Clifford  Troupe.                Do.  i 

Silcott  Mill— Maria  D.  Deslonde..  i 


John  Maribel. 


Do. 


Conquered — By  a  New  Author i 

Tales  from  the  Popular  Operas,    i 

Edith  Murray — Joanna   Mattic1.-.  s.    i 

San  Miniato — Mrs.  C.V.  Hamilton,    i 

All  for  Her— A  Talc  of  Xe\v  York. 

All  for  Him — Author 

For  Each  Other. 

Walworth's  Novels — Six  vols.... 


•"All  for  Her." 


